


Finding Home

by End_Transmission



Series: Home [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-down Connor, Android Connor, Angst, But more removed from it, Canon warnings (holocaust and racial triggers), Child Connor, Connor and Hank are main characters, Family Relationships - Freeform, Father & Son - Freeform, Follows Canon mostly, Mentions of Violence, No pairings - Freeform, Others will only be brief mentions, Possible mild violence against children, happiness too, non-slash, other characters than tagged possible, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission
Summary: Hank Anderson doesn't like androids, but he has even less interest in other humans. But Hank also has a problem - he can't seem to shake this overwhelming sense of loneliness. After all, dogs and alcohol can only do so much. Somehow, Hank finds himself in a place he never expected to be - a CyberLife store specializing in android children. What starts as a spur-of-the-moment thought will turn out to change his life forever.





	1. Prototype

**Author's Note:**

> Important Note: As of June 29, 2018, I've changed the name of the fic. I wasn't really happy with the previous name, and wanted to make it better, preferably before it got too far. I apologize if this caused any confusion! Previously known as "The Act of Opening a Home."
> 
> Hello, and welcome to the start of a new multi-chapter fanfic!
> 
> I don't currently know how many chapters this will be. I've already been having a lot of fun writing this piece! I have multiple scenes already written up, but they aren't totally cohesive yet, and there are more I want to do. In the interest of being honest, multi-chapter fics tend to be difficult for me. But this is one I really want to finish. I hope you'll give me a shot! 
> 
> I love feedback, both kudos and comments. Let me know if you're enjoying it so far! Please note that the first chapter here is really an intro chapter. It's a bit slow, but I just wanted to get the story kind of set up. Things will be more exciting in chapters to come.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Hank Anderson didn't know what he was doing here. 

Well, fine, he knew exactly  _ what  _ he was doing here. The question lay more in the  _ why _ . 

It had all started with a stupid magazine article. Just something he’d picked up to pass some time while waiting for Fowler to arrive for one of their many meetings. The article had caught his eye, and instead of ignoring it like he should have done, he’d ended up reading it. He had to admit those authors knew what they were doing. By the end of the article, even he had to admit there was some temptation in the idea of an android kid. Still, why he thought for even a second that this was a good idea...

He was not fit to be a father. He hadn't been fit to be a father since the title was forcibly stripped from him. Ever since Cole… 

But this didn’t really count, did it? This child wouldn’t be a real child. Just an android. Lifelike, of course, and made to look and act just like a human child. But it wouldn’t be. Hank couldn’t mess it up, because it would never grow up. He couldn’t get it hurt, because while child androids could simulate pain, it wasn’t real. And he could always turn that off. Worst case scenario, it’d be like a computer being irreversibly damaged. Costly, but it wouldn’t be a human life.

Hank knew he came off as an irresponsible, irritable, hardened drunkard to the people around him. Hell, it was an image he fostered. It was mostly true, even. He wanted to be left alone. It wasn’t worth making human connections anymore. It was easier to keep to himself. Easier to drown in the alcohol and all of that. He wasn’t in denial. He knew exactly what he was. 

But, he was also lonely.

Oh, he wouldn’t admit that to a soul, of course. And he had no interest in filling that void with human company. Sumo was a great start. A reason to get out of bed, even when that’s the last thing Hank wanted to do. He even gave Hank  _ something  _ to talk to. But sometimes, he wanted someone to talk back to him in something other than huffs and barks. 

He supposed he could get a normal, adult android. Something to do house work as well as provide him with some kind of socialization. For his own sake, it’d probably be safer. Something with the capability to help him if he drank himself near to death. Something to take care of him as he got older.

Or he supposed he could be satisfied with his dog, who was practically his best friend, and avoid the plastic pieces of shit entirely. 

He didn’t even like androids. He didn’t really trust them. 

So why the hell was he here? 

He found the store pretty unsettling. He knew that androids, especially child androids, tended to be more animated and humanlike once they were fully activated and named. But here, in the store, it felt more like a clip from Children of the Corn. A couple dozen children androids of various ages, skin shades, and appearances stood in small gatherings around the store. They stared straight ahead, giving almost no sign of artificial life, except for tiny back and forth movements. Every now and then, one would catch the eye of a human looking around, and give a slight smile. But it’d always be gone soon as soon as the human moved on. As if it’d never even been there. Nothing more than a marketing ploy.

He was starting to second guess himself. This was a bad idea. He didn’t like androids, and there was no reason to think a child version would be any better. They were certainly creepier. Hank turned, deciding that maybe he’d just leave. Forget the whole thing. It’d been a stupid idea, anyway.

“Hello.”

“Jesus christ!” 

Hank stumbled back, just barely avoiding falling back on his ass. There was a child there. Right behind him. It’s hair was dark brown, mostly kept, although there was a wayward couple of strands. It’s eyes were brown, too, and Hank would have sworn they were filled with curiosity. But it wore the same outfit as all the rest. The triangle pulsed blue on its chest. An android.

“Kid, you've gotta warn a guy-”

“My name is Connor,” the boy said, blinking once, stepping towards Hank, “I'm an android child, made by Cyberlife. What is your name?” 

“Hank,” Hank replied slowly, starting to recover from the surprise, “and if you don't mind, I was just leaving to go home.” This was stupid. He didn’t need a child android. He didn’t need an android at all. He had his dog, he had his job, and he had his alcohol. He moved to pass the android. At first, it slipped to the side, letting him pass without so much as brushing clothes. But then it was stepping backwards, staying in his sight, not touching him but not really letting him go, either. 

“Look, where's your owner? Shouldn't you be bugging them?” Hank asked, stopping and scowling at it. 

“I don't have an owner.” Another blink. 

“You got a name, don't you? Didn't think they named androids until they were bought,” Hank retorted. The thing just tilted his head, blinking again. Annoying, that blinking. It almost made it look as if it were actually confused. Like a computer even could be. 

“Cyberlife named me,” it said, “I'm a prototype. A more advanced child Android. The first of my kind.”

“Smart to boot,” that was a salesman, coming up to Hank and the small Android. He wore a smarmy smile. A poor attempt at warmth. Hank hated him immediately. “Smarter than most, which is saying something, because obviously androids are generally smart to begin with. Throws some people off, I think, because they really want the more innocent, childlike types. But you seem like the sort to appreciate a more mature model. All of the cuteness of a child, much less of the sass and simulated tantrums. More stimulating conversation, too”

“Well, that’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’ll be getting an android today,” Hank said, trying to wave them off. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you come here today, then?” The salesman asked. Hank opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find a response. He found his gaze drifting towards the android boy, instead. At his hesitation, the salesman’s smile widened.

“You certainly seem like someone who could use a kid around. And Connor here is the best-”   


“The best, huh?” Hank interrupted, shaking his head, “Look, I’m undecided about all of this, sure. But I definitely can’t afford your best-”

“Anyone can, with our payment plans,” the man responded, still smiling, “you won’t regret it, that I can promise you. It’s hard to step into the future sometimes, but I think most people find it impossible to go back once they have.” 

Hank looked at the kid again. Connor. An android child. Impossible to hurt or fuck up, but something that could add a little life into his house. It wasn’t like him. People would be surprised. He’d probably end up hating having an android around. It was a bad idea. He couldn’t even really afford it. He-

An android had no right having puppy dog eyes like those. And he could tell the android wasn’t even trying to look so pathetic. It was it’s natural appearance. 

_ Say no. Walk away, Anderson. You’ll regret this! Open your mouth and repeat after me. ‘No thanks, I’m good. Goodbye.’ _

“Let me see those payment plans of yours,” Hank sighed. 

 

* * *

 

For a moment, Hank could almost believe Connor was a real kid. They were standing in his kitchen, and on hindsight maybe Hank should have cleaned up a little bit before bringing anyone home, android or not. Especially considering the way Connor was standing there, eyes moving over the room, taking everything in. Hank had seen kids do it before, usually when they were brought into the precinct. They’d look around nervously, as if they needed to take in every detail. Possible threats. Escape routes. Just in case. Even so, Hank had to remind himself that Connor wasn’t nervous, or looking for an escape. He was analyzing. Probably learning more about Hank than Hank had ever wanted anyone to know. 

Well, there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Instead, Hank took the time to do his own staring. Trying in turn to analyze  _ it _ , although he didn’t get much out of it. That was the problem with being human. He didn’t have any of those fancy programs androids did. 

“So. I wasn’t really planning on doing this for, you know, real. And I’ve only got the one bedroom. Got some extra blankets and such around, though. I’ll make up the couch for you,” Hank told Connor. It got the android boy’s attention, and his eyes moved over, resting on Hank. 

“If it's more efficient, you can turn my sleep program off, Lieutenant,” Connor said. Hank wasn’t sure how the android had figured out what he did for a living. Somewhere along their journey home, however, Connor had taken to calling Hank ‘Lieutenant.’ It wasn’t necessarily a welcome change.

“Do you want me to?” Not that Hank knew how. He really didn’t know anything about this advanced technology shit. Still, Connor could no doubt show him how, if he wanted to. But all Hank received in return was a blank stare.

“I’m a machine, Lieutenant. I don’t have wants. It’s your choice.” 

Hank let out a breath, for some reason unnerved at the answer. Weren’t the kid models supposed to act more like, well, kids? The salesman  _ had _ mentioned that Connor was a more mature model. Still, Hank hadn’t expected more sophistication than most adult humans. For a second, he wondered if that meant Connor was tense. He quickly discarded the thought, though. Androids didn’t get tense. 

“Well, in that case you mind as well keep it on,” Hank said, “I don’t want you getting into trouble while I’m sleeping, and I think you’re going to get bored real quick if you have to stay up all night.” Connor accepted this easily, just nodding. Not even bothered in the least.

“What about, you know, food and stuff? You eat? Drink?” Hank asked. Connor shook his head almost immediately. 

“Organic particles clog up my biocomponents. They haven’t figured out how to get around that yet, so even child androids like me can’t eat,” Connor responded. Another blink. 

“Right.” What the hell had Hank been thinking? Bringing an android home? “Well then. I guess, make yourself at home. I’m gonna make myself some dinner in the meantime.” 

  
“I could do that, lieutenant,” Connor said, taking a step forward. Surprised, Hank couldn’t help but scowl a little. 

“Look, I’ve never known a kid to willingly do any sort of chores, especially not cooking. You’re supposed to be a kid, right? Why don’t you start acting like it?  And for fucks sake, call me Hank. Or Mr. Anderson, if you must be so...proper. But my coworkers are the only ones that need to call me Lieutenant. Got it?”

Connor didn’t respond right away. Idly, Hank noticed the little LED on the side of the kid’s head turning yellow. Pulsing softly. Thinking or something, if Hank had to guess. 

“Sorry, Mr...Hank. I’ll try to do better,” Connor responded. Hank sighed. He supposed it was a start. He lifted a hand, waving the boy off.

“Good. Now go get settled. Or explore. Whatever. Let me know if you need anything,” Hank said. Connor nodded, and without another word, turned and left the kitchen. 

This, Hank decided, was going to take a lot of getting used to. 


	2. Connor, meet Sumo. Sumo - no, don't do that!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Connor and Sumo bond, and Connor finds out the hard way that a big dog can make a big mess. Meanwhile, Hank feels conflicted about his new house guest.

They said that, over time, pets started to take on the mannerisms and even appearances of their owners. It was the kind of thing Hank usually wrote off as bullshit. But in this case, he had to admit that ‘they’ may be on to something.

Sumo was much more easy-going than Hank, of course. That being said, Sumo was also more than happy to spend most of his time alone, or with Hank. He was equally as lazy as his owner. They even had a similar shaggy and unkempt appearance. Yeah, Hank could believe that old adage. 

Hank hadn’t really thought about Sumo when he was debating purchasing an android. On their way home, though, he remembered his dog. How would Sumo react to Connor? Dogs in general were good at reading people, although he wasn’t sure how they generally treated androids. But if Sumo really was like Hank, there was every possibility that Sumo would be distrustful of Connor. At least Hank was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be aggressive.

It turns out, he needn’t have worried. 

Sumo was a little uncertain of Connor, at first. When they’d entered the house, Sumo had come over, sniffing curiously. Connor had tilted its head and studied the dog in turn. After sniffing Connor for a few seconds, Sumo had turned and padded off. Hank didn’t see his dog poking around for the rest of the night. 

It was the scene he came upon when he went into the living room the next morning that showed him that there was no room for concern. Connor was bundled up on the couch, sleeping, Hank supposed. It was briefly unnerving, because in that state it really did look just like a sleeping human child. It was Sumo, though, that Hank was most interested in. Sometime in the night, the massive saint bernard had also climbed up onto the couch. Most of his upper body was draped over Connor’s much smaller form, and his massive head was resting on the android’s upper chest, his muzzle almost tucked under Connor’s chin. Connor made no noise while it slept. Sumo, on the other hand, was snoring away. 

“Sumo,” Hank said, trying to keep his voice quiet but firm, “get down from there before you suffocate it.” Sumo’s snoring cut off abruptly, and the dog quickly lifted his head, looking over at Hank, ears perking. Hank tried to summon Sumo to his side with a gesture, but the dog only shifted a bit, clearly reluctant to leave his new friend.

“Oh relax, ya big lump. He’s not going anywhere. What, don’t want your breakfast?” At the ‘b’ word, Sumo finally hopped down from the couch and lumbered over, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted excitedly. Hank chuckled, leaning down to fill the dog bowl. “Yeah,” he said, “that’s what I thought.” 

After that morning, it was obvious that Sumo quickly bonded with the android boy. It was the damndest thing Hank had ever seen. Wherever the kid went, the dog followed like a massive, shaggy shadow. If Connor stopped somewhere, Sumo quickly went to his side, slipping his head under the android’s hand. If Connor sat on the couch, Sumo would jump up and push as much of his body into the kid’s lap as possible. And the dog slept with the android every night, without fail. 

For it’s part, Connor wasn’t nearly as obviously affectionate. But it also didn’t seem to mind Sumo’s presence. Whenever Sumo would beg for pets, Connor would oblige, scratching behind the dog’s ears or rubbing a hand down his back. If it was walking somewhere and noticed Sumo falling behind, the android would stop and let the dog catch up. And although all of that body and hair couldn’t possibly be comfortable to sleep under, Connor never shooed Sumo away at night. If Hank didn’t know better, he’d almost think it was a real human-animal bond. 

All part of a very advanced simulation, Hank had to assume. 

It was still a little unnerving, though. 

“Why do you let Sumo hang around you so much?” Hank asked Connor a couple of days after he brought the android home, “I didn’t think androids cared one way or another about animals.”

Connor had looked at him, one of those blinks, and although the movement was quick, Hank would have sworn the android shrugged. 

“I don’t know, Mr. Hank. I just like dogs, and Sumo is a good dog.”    


It really wasn’t an answer, but Hank knew it was the best he was going to get from the android. And it certainly wasn’t a lie. Sumo  _ was  _ a good dog.

In truth, he felt conflicted about the whole deal. On one hand, he felt a little put off. What was Hank to Sumo, chopped liver? Well, no, the dog would probably be all over a bowl of chopped liver. 

Anyway.

More importantly, he didn’t know how he felt about Connor. Seeing the android interact with Sumo gave it a sort of humanness that made Hank feel uncomfortable. On the other hand, those times when Hank would catch Connor doing something distinctly non-human made him feel equally as uncomfortable. 

So, in compromise, he found himself avoiding the android. It wasn’t really a conscious decision, but it always felt strange and awkward being in the kid’s presence. Of course, he lived in a rather small house. So avoiding Connor wasn’t easily done. Thankfully, there was one place Hank could go - had to go, in fact - where Connor couldn’t follow. 

Hank never thought he’d be so thankful for work.

“Alright Connor, here’s how it is,” Hank had told the android the morning after they’d first come home, “I know you’re supposed to be kid-like and all, but I can’t watch you all day long. I gotta work, so, that’s where I’ll be most of the day. You can take care of yourself, right? Perks of being an android and all that?”

“Yes, of course I can take care of myself while you’re at work. I could even go into a resting mode while you’re gone, if it makes you feel better?” Connor had offered that option up so easily. Hank didn’t entertain the idea for long, though. 

“Don’t need to do that, just keep yourself out of trouble while I’m gone, alright? You can have free roam of the house or whatever, just don’t fuck anything up. Got it?” Hank had responded.

“Got it,” another easy answer from the android. Not that that should surprise Hank, he supposed. Androids were designed to obey orders. 

“And take Sumo on a walk once and awhile. Mind as well get some good use out of having you around the house,” Hank had added, almost an afterthought. It  _ would  _ be good for Sumo to get some more exercise. Sumo was starting to gain a belly similar to Hank’s, too. 

At that, Connor had looked at Sumo, LED briefly turning yellow. “Take Sumo on walks. Understood,” he’d responded after a couple of seconds. 

“Good,” Hank replied. An uncomfortable beat of silence passed between them. “Well. I’m going to work then. See you later, I guess.” 

“See you after work, Mr. Hank.”

 

* * *

 

The instructions had been simple enough, Hank had thought. And it was obvious that Connor had listened and understood them. After all, that very night Hank had returned to a house much cleaner than he’d left it. Connor and Sumo had both been waiting for him to return home. As far as he could tell, they’d likely spent a lot of time just sitting together on the couch. Although, Connor had assured him that they had taken a rather lengthy walk that day, as well. 

That’s why, on a night nearly a week later, Hank was stunned to come home to a living room covered in rain water and mud, with neither android nor dog anywhere to be seen. Hank stopped in the doorway and stared for a few seconds, trying to process just what the hell had happened to his house. The puddles were biggest around the door, but he could spot some on his couch and coffee table. There were even splotches on the walls. Dreading what he might find, Hank headed further into his house, being careful to step around a particularly large puddle of mud. He was about to call for Connor, when he heard the android’s voice coming from down the hall.

“No, Sumo! You have to hold still, or I won’t be able to wash you. No, that’s not - Sumo!” 

Hank headed for the bathroom, and when he got to the doorway he paused and leaned against it, taking in the sight ahead of him. 

Dirty water pooled in the tub, and the shower head was hanging down, swinging softly against the wall of the shower. It was obvious that Sumo had, at one time, been in that tub. He must have jumped out, though, because now he was standing on the bathroom rug, panting as mud, water, and soap dripped all around him. 

Well, around him and around  _ everything _ . It was obvious that the dog had recently shaken himself out. The walls, sink, and even toilet were splattered. Connor, however, had clearly gotten the worst of it all.

The android was crouched next to the tub, covered head to toe in soapy water, mud, and dog hair. Its hair was plastered to its head, and its clothes likewise plastered to its body. As Hank watched it, he saw water drip from the end of its nose. Having heard Hank come in, it had turned its head to look at him, and the man would have sworn Connor’s eyes were wider than normal. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hank,” Connor said, getting to his feet, “it started raining while we were out on a walk. I was trying to get Sumo home, but he took off suddenly. By the time I caught up, he’d found some mud puddles to play around in. I was trying to clean him off, and was going to clean the house, too. But…” it trailed off, glancing around the now filthy bathroom.

There was a pregnant pause, and then suddenly Hank was laughing harder than he had in a long time. He gripped at his stomach as the laughs came from deep in his belly. He couldn’t even reply, at first, because he was simply laughing too hard.

“Shit, kid, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an android look so pathetic. Look at you...you’re a mess!  _ Sumo _ looks better, and that’s really saying something. I guess I should have warned you that Sumo really loves water. The dirtier, the better, too. Guess you learned that the hard way, though,” Hank said once he’d gotten ahold of himself, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. 

Connor was frowning, now. Hank saw it clasp its hands and rub them together. That was interesting, Hank thought. Was it experiencing discomfort? 

“I don’t understand,” Connor finally said, “why are you laughing? Sumo and I are filthy, and so is your house. It’ll be very difficult to clean. But you find this...humorous?”

“You’re damn right I do,” Hank said. He stepped into the bathroom, moving around puddles to get to Connor. He reached out, putting a hand on the android’s shoulder. “Because it’s not just humorous, it’s hilarious. Don’t worry about the mess. We’ll get it cleaned up.” He paused for a second. “Sumo might be a lost cause, though.”

As if on cue, Sumo barked at them, then ran from the bathroom. A few seconds later, Hank heard the telltale sounds of the dog shaking himself out again. Probably in the living room, this time. At that, Hank did groan a little. To his surprise, even Connor looked exasperated. 

“C’mon kid. Let’s go see what the damage is,” Hank said, leading Connor out of the bathroom. He might have even given the android’s shoulder a small squeeze.

As they went, Hank had the thought that if these were the kind of moments he was missing by avoiding the android, then he might just have to stop doing so.


	3. Deviancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank's been tasked with what feels like a nearly impossible investigation. So to distract himself, he decides to do a few parental things for Connor. As he's begun to expect, however, things don't go quite the way he'd planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who's commented or left kudos on the story so far! I hope you guys are enjoying it. I know it's been a bit slow, but here's a longer chapter to make up for it. Things should start picking up pretty soon, too!
> 
> An important couple of notes: one, I'm not sure how long this fic will be. It started with a bunch of disconnected, but important scenes, that now I'm adding to and bringing together to make something cohesive. But I haven't written anything like a final scene, yet. So we'll see how things go from here! Note number two, chapters are coming out kind of quick right now because I am very, very into this game and into this fic. That being said, I can't promise the same kind of steam as we go on. Don't be surprised if updates begin to slow down a bit, although I will be making sure to post at least once a week! (probably even more).
> 
> Thanks again for the support so far, and I hope you enjoy chapter 3!

Hank had had a week from hell. Never in his many years as a detective had there ever been even a single case of an android gone rogue. At least, no case that he had been part of. He supposed it was possible there had been the rare case in other regions of the country. He, however, had never dealt with it. And now, suddenly, there had been three separate cases in one week. Somehow, Captain Fowler had decided that Hank was best equipped to deal with the strange new phenomenon. He had been officially delegated to dealing with what they’d started calling ‘The Deviant Problem.’ It was his job to investigate any crimes from then on that involved deviant androids. And to try and figure out just why and how the androids were going deviant in the first place. 

The first two cases had been immediate dead ends. The first android had been irreversibly damaged in the fire it had set after killing its owner. The second had ripped out and crushed its own thirium pump as soon as it was cornered. The third case, however, had given Hank some hope. They’d managed to subdue the android and bring it back to the station.

Hank wasn’t expecting it to literally bash itself to death on the desk, right in front of him and the other officers watching the interrogation. And it’d done it before giving them even a single hint. In the end, it, too, had been a dead end. 

As a person and companion, Hank wasn’t reliable. As a detective, though, he was used to getting the job done. It was frustrating to be struggling so much. And, of course, as a human being he couldn’t help but be afraid of what his all meant. True, it seemed that, so far at least, the androids who had gone deviant had undergone some trauma afflicted upon them by their owners. Still, what would happen if other androids started going deviant? What the hell did this all mean? How was it happening? 

If he spent too much time thinking about it, it made him want to drink himself to oblivion.

Unfortunately, things at home were beginning to stress him out, too. So even when he put his job out of his mind, it was immediately filled instead with thoughts of home. Specifically, thoughts of Connor.

His job was taking him out of the house more and more. Once he got home, he was often so wiped that he barely managed to greet Connor and Sumo, make dinner, and then go to bed. He wasn’t even actively trying to avoid the android boy anymore. It just happened because of the chaos at work. 

Hank couldn’t help it. He felt guilty about his absence. 

He knew it was irrational. Connor was an android, and because of that it didn’t need the kind of stimulation that human children did. It didn’t need affection. It didn’t need food or water. It didn’t even seem particularly good at  _ giving  _ affection, which Hank was pretty sure was supposed to be a feature of the child androids. Not that he necessarily minded if his model was a bit defective. He hadn’t wanted some clingy pretend child anyway.

Regardless of all that, he still couldn’t shake the guilt. If Connor had been real a child, Hank would have been making sure to do, well, parent-child things with it. And even though Connor was an android and even though Hank  _ knew  _ that, it still bothered him that he hadn’t been doing any of those things with Connor. That he had, for all intents and purposes, been neglecting Connor.  

The android boy didn’t seem bothered in the least by it, though. That’s what Hank tried to remind himself of every time the guilt struck. Connor was an android. It had no use for human companionship or care. It didn’t care one way or another if Hank was there, or if Hank was spending time with it. Reminding himself of that didn’t get rid of the feelings entirely, but it helped.

At least, until one day Hank came home to a particularly peculiar sight. Connor was sitting on the couch, Sumo’s head on his lap, doing absolutely nothing. It was awake (on?), because its eyes were open. But the tv was off, the computer was off, and Connor didn’t seem to be doing anything but sitting there. Staring at nothing. By himself. In a dark house, although Connor had at least left the kitchen light on.

It was just too much for Hank.

“Alright, that’s it,” Hank said, clapping his hands together. He expected Connor to jump, but instead the android just looked over in his direction. It didn’t even look surprised. “Have you just been...sitting there all day?” 

“Yes,” Connor responded, “I’m sorry, Mr. Hank, was there something else you wanted me to do? I didn’t think anything else needed to be cleaned...was I wrong?” 

“No, that’s not-” Hank sighed, “Look, kids are supposed to...shit...be kids! Frankly, the house should be in worse shape than I left it. Because that’s what kids do - they make messes and shit. Like that day Sumo dragged you through the mud. That was very kid-like.”

“Is that what you’d like me to do? I’m designed to emulate a child, so if you’d like me to do better at that, I can certainly try,” Connor responded.

Hank just shook his head. “That’s not what I’m - look, I don’t want you to do better at emulating being a child. I want you to, fuck I don’t know, actually be one. Do things that children do. Go places that children go.” 

Connor tilted his head, peering at Hank. 

“Where would I go? What would I do? It probably wouldn’t be wise for me to go too far from the house without a human around. I did take Sumo for a walk, though. He seemed to be very appreciative,” Connor said. 

Hank rubbed a hand over his face. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, mostly to himself. A second later, though, an idea came to him. “Right. Well, tomorrow we’ll see about going out. We’ll find something to do, together. I think getting you some new clothes will be a good start.” 

“If that’s what you want to do, Mr. Hank.” 

Hank sighed, but waved the android off. What he wanted? If Hank was honest with himself, what he really wanted was for Connor to have his  _ own  _ wants. Even just one thing. Then, maybe, he’d be able to connect with the boy better. 

He knew it was stupid. But knowing that didn’t change anything.

 

* * *

 

“That doesn’t seem like a very healthy breakfast, Mr. Hank. It has a lot of unnecessary calories and fats.” 

Well, Hank thought, that was new.

He’d been minding his business, eating a breakfast consisting of a two-day old donut and some microwave bacon, thinking on his plans for the day. Connor had been performing a favorite past time - standing near Hank, watching the man do whatever he was doing, one hand idly petting Sumo at its side. Hank had gotten more or less used to its hovering, so of course now the android had to add in commentary. 

“Delicious calories and fats, you mean,” Hank responded, looking at Connor with a raised eyebrow. The android frowned at him, and Hank had the oddest feeling that he was being scolded. 

“They’re not good for you,” Connor looked perplexed, “you really shouldn’t-”

“Alright kid, enough,” Hank said, waving his hand, “your concern is noted, alright?”

Connor didn’t looked convinced, but it nodded, backing back up.

“Good,” Hank said, “now then, I’m going to finish my breakfast. Then you and me are going to take a trip to the store.”

“Okay,” Connor responded.

 

* * *

 

Finding Connor clothes was a surprisingly quick, if slightly painful, process. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Connor that made the situation uncomfortable. It was the other humans lingering around the store. Almost all of them stared. Some seemed just curious, some less than friendly. Even the saleswoman, who still helped them in the end, seemed hesitant to spend too much time around them. 

Hank even heard someone whisper about the stupidity of buying an android clothes. Hank shot a glare in the person’s direction, making it clear that he’d heard.

Still, in the end, the two got what they needed. Hank couldn’t afford to get too much, but he was able to get a couple of pairs of clothes for Connor. 

Not that the android had helped any, either. Hank really should have known better than to try and get its opinion on something like this.

“What about this coat? Not too heavy, but it’ll help keep you warm,” Hank had asked, holding up a gray hooded jacket. Connor had just blinked at him.

“If that’s what you’d like me to wear, then I’ll wear it.”

And it was like that with everything. All this fancy AI, and they couldn’t even program basic clothes preferences. So in the end, Hank had gotten a variety of things that, if he had been a child, he might like to wear. A lot of grays and browns and muted colors. 

There was one thing, though, that took Hank very much by surprise.

There was a random selection of things near the front of the store, eye candy and temptations for people and their kids while they were waiting to check out. Hank didn’t pay any of it any attention. But as they waited, he realized that Connor  _ was _ paying attention. A lot of it, in fact.

Hank followed the android’s gaze to a nearby collection of toys. A couple of books and stuffed animals. It took him a moment to figure out what, specifically, Connor was looking at. Turns out, it was a stuffed turtle. It was about the size of a soccer ball and covered in shimmering, changing shades of green. It’s eyes were wide and soft black, and even Hank thought it looked invitingly soft to the touch. 

Androids, Hank thought, couldn’t really want for anything. That was why getting decisions out of Connor was like pulling teeth. They could pretend to want, of course, but if that was what Connor was doing, why was it keeping it to itself? If it was trying to act the part of a child, it would be asking Hank to buy the toy. 

It didn’t take Hank long to come to an unnerving conclusion. This wasn’t pretend. For some unfathomable reason, through some unknowable process, Connor really felt an attraction to the toy. Actually wanted it. Something, Hank was sure, Connor itself didn’t even realize or have the ability to put into words. 

Wordlessly, Hank left Connor in line and went over and picked up the turtle. He examined it for a minute before bringing it back, adding it to their merchandise. Connor was watching Hank, now, but didn’t say anything about what he’d just done. 

Hank waited until they had paid and were back in the car to take the turtle from their bags. Then, he turned and handed it to Connor.

The android took the toy, eyes moving back and forth between it and Hank. “You...bought this, to give it to me?” Connor asked, holding the toy gingerly, as if afraid it would break. Or, maybe, that Hank would snatch it away.

“Well, you were staring at it hard enough to leave holes,” Hank told him, “you seemed like maybe you wanted it?” He let the thought trail off. As did Connor, who didn’t respond right away. Although his LED was facing away from Hank, the man was certain it was flashing yellow now. 

“Thank you,” Connor finally said. No remark on whether he had really wanted the toy or not. His silence on that, Hank thought, spoke volumes.

 

* * *

 

Hank’s second idea was to take Connor to the park. Maybe being around human children and out in the fresh air would spark...something in the android. So he swung home and had Connor change while he leashed up Sumo. He assumed the dog would enjoy the fresh air, too. 

When Connor came out of the bathroom, Hank found himself almost immediately calmed by his appearance. Although the LED was still a dead giveaway, Connor looked much more genuine without the Cyberlife android uniform on. He’d put on the hooded jacket from before, as well as a pair of boy’s jeans, which Hank personally thought was a very smart choice. It looked good on the kid. 

Nodding in approval, he rounded up Connor and Sumo and headed out.

Although Hank knew that there was a park not far from his house, he chose to drive to one across town, instead. He hadn’t stepped foot in a park since Cole’s death, and although he was willing to do so now, he didn’t want to go to the same one he used to take his son to. That was a ghost he wasn’t yet ready to face. 

When they got out of the car at the park, Connor did so slowly and carefully. Curious, Hank watched the android, noting how he was looking around the park. Analyzing everything and everyone there. Hank saw him clasp his hands together and gave them a brief rub. Hank cleared his throat and walked over, nudging Connor’s back with a hand.

“Well? Go on. Go play, go be a child for god’s sake. Watch the others, if you don’t know what to do,” Hank said. Connor didn’t respond right away, but eventually he nodded. He still didn’t move for a moment, and Hank was sure the android was steeling himself, but eventually Connor wandered off. Hank watched him go until he disappeared among the playsets. 

Hank sighed and rubbed at his face, looking down at Sumo. “You know, this seemed like it would be a lot simpler when it was just a thought in my head.” 

A soft huff was Sumo’s only reply. Then the dog lowered his head and began to lead Hank around, sniffing out all of the different scents the park had to offer. Hank kept an ear out, and kept an eye on his own surroundings, but he figured Connor would be able to keep himself out of trouble. 

 

* * *

 

Hank and Sumo had meandered over to a nearby water fountain when Hank heard a woman’s alarmed, shrill shriek.

“Get the hell away from my son!”

Hank glanced at Sumo, who was staring at the playground, ears perked. A sinking feeling in his gut, Hank turned the dog and headed for the structures, eyes peeled for a little brown-haired android boy.

It didn’t take long to find Connor, and Hank wasn’t a fan of the scene. The android was sitting on the ground, eyes and head turned downwards, LED pulsing a warning yellow. The woman, Hank could only assume she had been the one to shriek earlier, was standing over him. She looked furious, and had a little boy pushed protectively behind her. More alarmed now, Hank hurried forward. 

“Alright, what’s going on here?” He asked, looking between the three. Connor didn’t respond, his head still angled down, so Hank turned his gaze to the woman instead. She was all too happy to look back at him, her gaze absolutely furious.

“Is this thing yours?” She asked, no longer yelling but still shrill, “it was talking to my son! Trying to convince him to climb up that pole!” 

“That’s not true, Mr. Hank,” Connor spoke up, finally glancing up towards Hank, “William was trying to talk  _ me _ into going up there…”

“Shut up, you little liar!” The woman shrilled. Then her ire was back on Hank. “How irresponsible can you be, bringing one of those things to a playground in the first place? Unless they’re minding children, they have no right to be here!” 

“Funny, I didn’t see any ‘no android’ signs around,” Hank shot back, finding his patience growing quickly thin, “so I don’t know why you think you can fucking tell me what I can or can’t do.” He shot a glance down to Connor. “For christ’s sake, Connor, would you get up?”

Without fuss Connor stood, moving just enough to put himself at Hank’s side. Something Hank had first noticed about Connor was how careful he was to avoid touching people - especially humans. Even when it was just them around the house, Connor was always quick to smoothly move out of the way if he and Hank happened to cross paths. So the fact that Connor was now standing close enough that their arms brushed just briefly caught Hank’s attention. Discomfort, it had to be. Hank looked back at the woman who had caused it with a spark of anger. Who the hell did she think she was?

“It’s just common sense!” The woman continued, oblivious to Hank’s growing anger, “they aren’t real children, and shouldn’t be around them. It could really hurt someone!” 

“Connor wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Hank said, his tone biting and cold. They had to get out of there, before he said or did something they’d all regret. A playground was definitely not the place for that kind of smackdown. “Look, do us all a favor, lady, and loosen up whatever’s shoved up your backside. C’mon, Connor, we’re leaving,” he reached down, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder, and began steering him away. 

“You don’t know it wouldn’t hurt anyone!” The woman shouted after them, “those things are hurting people all over the place. You’ll be next, so do  _ us  _ all a favor and keep that thing away from decent people!” 

Hank tightened his grip on Connor’s shoulder. So the public had heard about the deviants, then. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. But still, it irritated him that she would say something like that about Connor. The kid didn’t have a dangerous piece of plastic in his body. 

It was stupid. He’d just wanted to bring the kid to the park. Why had even that been so difficult?

Hank herded Connor and Sumo back to the car, feeling like he should say  _ something  _ to the boy, but uncertain what. So he choose to remain quiet, instead. It was Connor who broke the silence, once they were making their way back home.

“Mr. Hank?” he asked, his gaze on the road ahead. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what that woman was talking about? She said androids had been hurting humans. We can’t do that. Was she just lying, because she was angry?” 

Hank sighed lightly, and didn’t answer the android at first. In fact, it wasn’t until they were back in his driveway that he answered at all. And when he did, Connor looked at him quickly, as if he’d expected Hank to simply ignore the question. He supposed that was fair. He had been silent for awhile.

“No, she wasn’t,” he said, turning the car off and turning to look at Connor. “I’ve been tasked with investigating the topic, actually. For some reason, a couple of androids have turned on their owners. They’ve murdered them. That’s never really happened before, but now it’s not only happening, it’s kind of happening a lot. They’re calling it ‘going deviant.’ I’m trying to figure out just what exactly that means.” 

Connor’s brow furrowed as the android processed that with a yellow blink of its LED. “Deviant?”

“Some kind of malfunction, we’re thinking. A glitch in the android programming,” Hank said, climbing out of the car. It took him a moment to realize Connor hadn’t moved. Frowning, Hank turned back, looking into the car at the android. His LED was blinking furiously now, and his brows were furrowed. Worried.

Scared?

“Hank,” Connor said, his voice soft, “am I going to go deviant?” 

Hank couldn’t answer right away. He didn’t know  _ how  _ to answer. He wanted to tell Connor the truth.

“Of course not, Connor,” he lied instead.

The truth was, Hank didn’t know. There was no apparent underlying connection between the deviant androids so far. They didn’t know if the deviancy was caused by a malfunction, or a virus, or something they hadn’t yet thought of. Since the cause was unknown, for all Hank knew, Connor could turn deviant at the drop of a hat. 

The truth was, Hank thought that Connor already acted strange in some ways. The fact that he could even worry over this topic was strange. The way he’d so obviously wanted that stuffed turtle was strange. The way he’d bonded with Sumo, even, was not characteristic of most androids. And when Hank really thought about all of those facts, he thought that maybe Connor was, in fact, a prime candidate for deviancy. 

But it was also the truth that this didn’t really scare Hank. In the absolute worst case scenario, Hank was pretty sure he could stop Connor from doing any real damage to him. He was quite a bit bigger than the android, after all. But he didn’t think that would come to pass. He didn’t know much about deviancy, yet, but somehow he just didn’t think Connor would ever hurt him. Even if he did go deviant. 

But it was obvious, watching the android now, that the idea  _ did  _ bother Connor. Maybe even scared him, if non-deviant androids could get scared. So, Hank would offer him the lie, for now. Comfort him, like a proper parent should do. And should Connor go deviant, well, they would just have to deal with that situation when it arose. 

Connor looked at Hank, and after a few seconds, his LED went back to its normal, pulsing blue. He was satisfied with that answer, Hank supposed. 

“Okay. Thanks, Hank.”

“Sure thing, kid.”


	4. Cole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor meets Cole for the first time, and Hank can hardly bear the result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Note: As of June 29, 2018 (chapter 4), I've changed the name of the fic. I wasn't really happy with the previous name, and wanted to make it better, preferably before it got too far. I apologize if this caused any confusion! Previously known as "The Act of Opening a Home."
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you again for all of the kudos and comments! I'm glad people seem to be liking this fic so far! I tried something a little different this time, and had Connor be lead POV for a bit. I'll be trying to integrate that more as the story continues. Thanks again for the continued support, please enjoy the chapter!

_ Analyzing _

_ Subject: Hank _

_ Action: Sleeping _

_ Objective: Error _

_ Objective: Error_No_Instructions _

_ Processing _

_ Objective: Learn more about Hank _

Connor hadn’t yet activated his sleep program for the night. Hank seemed to prefer it when he did, but the man had never exactly issued a direct order regarding it. Connor did have to admit it was a more efficient use of time than standing or sitting around the house without anything to do. 

Tonight was different, though. He’d developed a new objective. Hank seemed to more or less enjoy Connor’s company, but whenever they so much as touched on personal details, it was always one-sided. Hank asking Connor questions. Difficult ones that the android found hard to answer.

_ “Do you like these jeans? How about this shirt? Dammit Connor, trying to get a straight answer out of you is like pulling teeth!” _

Connor didn’t enjoy making Hank irritated, but he could hardly help it. He simply didn’t have preferences. If he had to make the decision on his own, he would have simply kept the outfit given to him by Cyberlife. It was practical and did what it was designed to do. Connor didn’t need other clothes. But Hank had wanted Connor dressed in something different, and so Connor had complied. 

Connor lifted his hands, rubbing them together briefly. The situation with the stuffed turtle, on the other hand, had been complex. Connor had analyzed the memory from every side he could manage, and had yet to find an acceptable explanation.

He had noticed the turtle while doing a casual scan of their surroundings, more to pass the time than anything else. When he saw the stuffed creature, however, his processes had briefly stopped. There was a delay - something he almost never experienced - before his thoughts began again. He had been filled with a strange sensation. No glowing ‘objective’ popped up in his view, there was no indication of any sort in his programming that getting the toy was something he  _ should  _ do. 

Yet, he couldn’t look away from the toy. And the sensation continued. That he couldn’t determine just what the sensation was frustrated him. He’d just about managed to write it off as nothing but a strange programming glitch when Hank had walked over and picked up the toy. Connor had followed the path of the turtle until it the clerk had stuffed it in a bag. Losing sight of the toy had caused another strange sensation to flux through Connor. Similar in some ways to the first sensation, but different as well. 

More confusingly, Connor noticed his stress level rise a few notches.

It had gone back down the moment Hank had handed him the stuffed turtle in the car. 

There had been yet  _ another _ strange sensation when he’d held the turtle. It was so very soft to the touch. It reminded Connor a little bit of Sumo. He felt the urge to pet the turtle in the same way he might the dog. And shortly after, Hank had provided a word for the first of the strange sensations Connor had experienced.

Want. Connor had  _ wanted  _ the toy. 

He had been  _ distressed  _ when he’d lost sight of it.

And he had been  _ pleased  _ when Hank had handed it back to him.

No. Connor forced those thoughts to grind to a halt. No, he had simply mimicked those human emotions. It shouldn’t be so surprising. Children enjoyed playing with toys, and he had been designed to emulate a human child. He had seen the toy, and his programming had kicked in to cause him to act as a child might. 

(He ignored the little voice that tried to insist that, if that had been the case, he would have received an objective indication. If that was really the truth, then he wouldn’t be carrying the turtle with him even now, when Hank wasn’t even awake to see).

He didn’t have time to focus on this, anyway. Connor only had so much time to find some sort of information about the man who had purchased him. On the subject of acting like a human child, part of his process was  _ supposed  _ to be adapting to Hank. Every human had different desires and expectations when it came to children. Most child androids were designed to be the stereotypical ideal: affectionate, innocent, prone to simulated emotional outbursts. But Connor was a newer prototype, his AI was more advanced. He was supposed to determine what kind of child his owner wanted, and emulate the part.

He was finding it very difficult to meet that objective.

At first, it had been because Hank rarely spent any time around Connor. The android had recognized that as avoidance, brought about by Hank’s discomfort. It seemed now that it had abated, as Hank was making more of an effort to spend time with Connor. But even though the man was warming up to the android, he still did not share much about himself. It made it difficult for Connor to adapt. The only trait he’d determined Hank preferred in children was unobtrusiveness. Connor felt that he’d waited long enough for Hank to volunteer more information. If Connor wanted to be a better android, a better child, he needed to take some initiative. 

So that was why he hadn’t shut down for the night. Hank’s home was small and cluttered, but surely there was  _ something  _ around that Connor could use to learn about Hank. 

There were a few things he already knew, of course. Hank had been a respected and decorated detective, up until a couple of years ago. He often had at least a beer, if not a couple, when he came home in the evening. A few times, Connor had even spotted Hank taking shots of a hard liquor. Although, he noted, Hank had never gotten uncontrollably drunk in Connor’s presence. 

Hank was messy. Although Hank had never told Connor to clean, and in fact seemed to suggest the opposite, Connor felt as if had to. Otherwise, they might all drown in the mess.

Hank loved Sumo. The man was gruff and not overly affectionate, but the giant soft spot he had for his canine companion was clear. 

Yet, all of those things were shallow. Important, Connor supposed, but he had a need to know more about Hank from before. More out of Hank’s past. 

He poked around the house for awhile. Doing so netted him a few other random facts about Hank. It appeared the man had an eclectic taste in music, enjoying both jazz and heavy metal. He had collected a small number of vinyl records. He seemed to enjoy basketball to some degree. All important. 

But still just shallow information. 

After some time searching, Connor finally found something worthwhile. It was tucked away inside a kitchen drawer and Connor nearly missed spotting it among old receipts and sauce packets. Connor sat his turtle on the counter and reached in to the drawer, grasping the item with two hands and bringing it up to examine.

It was a picture, the frame sturdy but worn. A young human boy with dark brown hair smiled crookedly at the camera. Connor tried to scan the picture, but he wasn’t connected with the interface quite enough to get any information. What he could discern, however, was that the boy shared a few facial features with Hank. Connor had just come to a likely conclusion when Hank spoke from the kitchen doorway. 

“What’re you doing, kid?” He asked. Connor noted that he didn’t sound angry or annoyed. Rather, Hank seemed tired and resigned. Connor couldn’t tell if the tone was directed at him or if it was simply the result of interrupted sleep.

“Sorry, Hank,” Connor said. He sat the picture back into the drawer and closed it, turning to face the man. He had the brief thought that it might be better to lie, but decided against it. “I was looking to see if I could find anything to tell me more about you. I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“It does, a bit,” Hank said, before sighing and walking over, “but I guess I can’t blame you. Figures you’d find that, of all things.” 

Connor looked towards the drawer. “Is that child your son?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah he is,” Hank said, reaching over and opening the drawer. He took the picture out and set it up on the counter, fingers lingering over it for a second. 

“If I may ask, if you have a son, why haven’t I met him?” Connor asked. That, he thought, would be a good way to get to know Hank. Children were perceptive, and no doubt the boy would have all sorts of private tales about his father. Connor was a bit surprised when Hank didn’t answer right away. The man looked uncomfortable. At a closer look, Connor realized that he also looked sad. It seemed Connor had touched on something more private than intended. When Hank finally spoke, it wasn’t really an answer to Connor’s question.

“You want to?”

 

* * *

 

As he stepped under the welcome gate, Hank felt all at once as though he were being smothered. The grief hit hot and heavy, chasing away any and all positive thoughts. At the same time, his heart raced, as if he were in some sort of invisible danger. 

Being in the graveyard never got any easier. 

He felt as though he should warn Connor, or provide some sort of explanation. But Hank couldn't speak. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, his heart would bleed right out of it. So instead, he made a gesture for Connor to follow, and started walking. 

He had been flooded with emotions when he’d walked into the kitchen last night and saw Connor holding the picture of Cole. There had been anger that Connor had stumbled onto something so personal, and annoyance at the stoic, analytic face the android was making. There had been the familiar swoop of grief the very thought of Cole always brought. And, finally, acceptance. An android wouldn’t know the intricacies of human emotion and boundaries. He knew there had been no malevolence to Connor’s prying. And he should have expected that Cole would come up eventually. 

He wasn’t sure why he had decided to bring Connor here, though.

He kept walking, eyes scanning the graveyard although he could have found the headstone with his eyes closed. Could have written out an exact copy of its childish, block letters in his sleep. He stopped in front of it, the very curve of the grass around its base a too-familiar sight.

Cole Anderson. 

Connor deserved an explanation, now. He was looking at Hank patiently, as if waiting for one. Hank had brought him here, it'd only be right to tell him why. To tell him the story. 

Hank didn't say a word. 

After a few moments, Connor stopped waiting for him to. Instead, he turned to face the headstone, LED whirling soft yellow. Then, he stepped forward, and crouched until he was on his knees in front of it. He lay the stuffed turtle (he was carrying that thing around?) on the ground next to him before reaching out and laying a hand carefully against the headstone. 

“Hello, Cole,” Connor said, “my name is Connor. Your father…” Connor paused. And for a long moment, he let the sentence hang. 

“Your father,” He finally continued, “adopted me, from Cyberlife. He’s good to me, but,” he paused again, “but I think he misses you very much. I think it makes him sad. But you don't have to worry. I promise you that I will do my best to help him be happy. I'll take care of him for you.” 

Hank felt something in his chest catch, felt a sudden, sharp pain as though someone had thrust a knife deep into the cavity. He turned away from the sight of the android crouched at the base of his son’s grave. He began to walk away. Fled. He didn't get far, though, before a harsh sob exploded from his throat. He covered his mouth with a hand and hurried on, managing to make it to a bench before collapsing.

It wasn't fair. He should be past this. Of course he didn’t want to ever forget Cole, but it had been some time now since the grief was this sharp and clear. He realized he was crying. No, he was sobbing, harsh noises ripping through his throat as tears poured down his face. He had the fleeting thought that he was pathetic. That he should be stronger than this. He curled forward over himself and buried his face in his hands as he sobbed anyway.

He only barely noticed when a small form climbed onto the bench next to him. Connor didn't say a word. He didn’t offer words of comfort, didn’t try to embrace Hank. But after a second, Hank realized that their sides were touching. Brushing, more like. But knowing how careful Connor was to avoid contact, Hank knew it was deliberate. The boy’s best attempt at comfort. Unconsciously, Hank shifted so that they were even closer. Together, android and man sat, and Hank allowed his renewed grief to spend itself. 

 

* * *

 

When Hank woke the next morning, his first thought was ‘ _ fuck, my head hurts.’ _

His second was that it had been awhile since he’d gotten that drunk.

In hindsight, he supposed that a little over a month wasn’t actually  _ that  _ long. But considering before it had practically been a weekend (and sometimes weekday) ritual, it felt like a long time. He thought about if for a second, and realized that he hadn’t gotten that drunk since Connor had joined his home.

Where was Connor, anyway?

Hank tried to bring back the pieces of the night before, but they were well and truly out of his reach. Snippets of the afternoon came back to him, though. The graveyard. His little crying display. Driving home, the silence that had stretched between him and Connor all day stretching on still. 

Vaguely, he remembered getting home, but that was the end of it. Had he really started drinking right away? That early? Had he even given Connor any explanations at all? Had they even talked?

That’s about when Hank realized that he was in his bed. That was unusual, because blacking out normally resulted in waking up on a cold kitchen floor. Not tucked into bed -

Tucked?

Hank pushed himself up until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, the blanket that’d been covering him pooling around his waist. Now he knew he wasn’t responsible for that. And unless someone had broken into his house specifically to tuck his drunk ass into bed, there was really only one person who could have done it. 

He stood, recognizing he was still dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, and headed out into the living room. The TV was on, tuned into a news station. When Hank realized they were discussing the rise in “what the authorities are dubbing “deviancy cases,” he hurried over to grab the remote and turn the TV off. He didn’t feel like dealing with that shit right now. Nor did he want Connor to see it.

Shortly after, he realized he probably needn’t have worried. Connor was curled up on the couch, eyes closed, clearly in the midst of his sleep program. Despite the events of the day before and his pounding headache, Hank smiled at the sight. The stuffed turtle was held securely in the android’s arms and, as always, Sumo was curled up at the boy’s feet, head resting atop them. 

Hank considered waking him. There were a number of things he wanted to tell Connor. He wanted to explain, to talk more about Cole. He wanted to defend his crying fit. He wanted to thank Connor for sitting next to him on that bench, for tucking him into bed when he’d drunk himself into a stupor. He wanted to apologise for his silence yesterday, and for his shameful drinking episode.

But there would be time for that later. Hank scanned the room quickly before grabbing a nearby blanket and approaching the sleeping boy. Brushing off the thoughts of the futility of the action, Hank shook the blanket out and draped it over Connor. He leaned down and tucked the edges in around the boy, and if his hand briefly brushed at Connor’s hair as he pulled away, well, Hank didn’t think anything of it. 

Satisfied, Hank headed into the kitchen to make himself a greasy breakfast. He didn’t see the way Connor blinked awake and grabbed the edge of the blanket, burrowing down deeper into it before closing his eyes and reinitializing his sleep program. 


	5. Barney is a Dinosaur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor acts like a kid, for once in his thus far short life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so very, very much to everyone who has left kudos or comments. I know I've only responded to a couple, but I read every single comment that comes in! Every single kind word, from single sentence comments to long paragraphs, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it so far - I'm really having a great time writing it. It's the first time since I was probably like 14 that I've written so much with such gusto.
> 
> A special shoutout to CottonDreams88. They left a comment regarding how Connor would react to a disney movie. I had actually had a scene for this chapter already written up, and had decided not to include it. However, thanks to their comment, I changed my mind. It's not exactly disney, but it's the same idea ;). 
> 
> This is a shorter chapter, and may be a little weaker than the others. But I wanted to have something mostly light-hearted and just kind of fun between the last chapter and the next. No worries though, the next chapter will be back to about normal length. While I can't promise this, there's also a decent chance that chapter 6 will be uploaded later today. And, if not, definitely earlier in the day tomorrow.
> 
> Alright, I'll stop prattling on. I hope you enjoy!

_ Objective: No objective _

_ Re-Analyzing _

_ Objective: Entertain yourself. _

Those were the words Hank always used, after all. It didn’t have a lot of meaning to Connor, though. He didn’t  _ need  _ to entertain himself. He was perfectly content to sit in standby mode until Hank returned home. He’d learned that the man didn’t like that, though. He said it often - he wanted Connor to act more like a kid. 

What would a kid do? 

His eyes wandered over to the television set. Children enjoyed watching television, right? Specifically, cartoon shows? 

_ New Objective: Watch Cartoons _

“TV, on,” he called, crossing the room to settle onto the couch. As he idly flipped through the channels, he scanned through his memories of earlier that morning. 

Connor had woken from his sleep program when he felt Hank tucking the blanket around him. Much the same way as he’d done for the very inebriated lieutenant the night before. Deciding against analyzing his own decisions, he analyzed Hank’s instead. He supposed the human’s actions weren’t especially surprising. He already knew Hank was warming up to him, and it was human nature, so far as he knew, to do such things for those a human was fond of. 

Connor had felt his systems growing inexplicably warm at Hank’s actions. Not to alarming levels, but he’d run a quick diagnostic as he’d reactivated his sleep cycle anyway. He mind as well not have bothered, the scan came up with nothing abnormal. 

It had been strange, so Connor had decided not to focus on it.

Once he’d woken for good, he’d found Hank in the kitchen, eating a meal that Connor knew was way too unhealthy for a man of Hank’s age. A quick scan had told him it was also the kind of meal favored by humans suffering from what was called a ‘hangover.’ 

Connor had decided not to comment.

As it turns out, however, Hank had had plenty to say. 

“Look, Connor, yesterday was...well. You did a lot of real nice things. And I want you to know, you know, that I appreciate it. And I also wanted to apologize.”

Connor had tried to process that, failing to understand. “It was no problem to help you, Hank. Why are you apologetic, though? Grief is a normal human emotion, and it doesn’t seem to me that it’s something to be ashamed of.”

“It’s not,” Hank had said, nodding. He’d paused then, not speaking for a moment. “But it’s really not very responsible to drink so heavily when there’s a kid around. And it definitely wasn’t your responsibility to get me into bed. That’s why I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have had to do those things.” 

That had been a little easier to process, Connor found. Again, Hank was concerned for Connor. It was a trait Connor had finally realized was simply part of who Hank Anderson was. No matter how many times Connor reassured Hank that he wasn’t like human children, it didn’t seem to make a difference. In fact, the more time they spent together, the more Hank seemed to forget that. It would be pointless, Connor had realized, to try and remind Hank of that fact again. 

His processes halted for a few seconds while he considered. Then, he reached out and touched Hank’s arm - physical contact was good for humans in distress. 

“You were upset,” Connor told the man, “it’s okay. I forgive you, Hank.” 

Hank had watched Connor for a moment before nodding. “Thanks,” he’d said, his voice gruff. Then he’d stood and started bustling about, getting ready for work. Trying to reestablish the status quo. Connor had watched him, filing the memory away. 

Connor was in the middle of further analyzing the memory when something colorful on the TV caught his attention. He pushed the memory away, focusing instead back on the present moment, and on the television in front of him. 

He scanned the program on.

_ Program name: Barney and Friends _

_ Original Air Date: April 6, 1992 _

_ Renewed: December 15, 2032 _

It was obviously a show for younger children, featuring a cheerful, dancing, purple dinosaur as well as his dinosaur companions and a group of human children.

No, Connor realized a second later, android children. Although the average human wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. 

Connor narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as the characters on screen began singing. 

_ Stress levels decreasing. _

_ Analyzing music. _

Without realizing it, Connor stopped paying attention to his ongoing processes. He settled back against the couch, and his foot began to bounce in time to the song. 

 

* * *

 

Fucking  _ Barney the Dinosaur  _ was on Hank’s tv when he arrived home that afternoon. Talk about a nostalgia trip. He could remember watching that cartoon himself, back at the ripe age of six years old. He’d been a little old for it, and so hadn’t watched it for very long, but still. It was a jarring sight to see Connor watching the same show, even if it had been entirely revamped.

He was going to tease Connor about it, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the android.

Connor was sitting on the couch, and he wasn’t even really watching the show. His eyes were closed, but the pulsing yellow LED was a dead giveaway that he wasn’t in sleep mode. Hank then noticed that Connor was swaying back and forth ever so slightly. His foot was moving up and down where it hung off the couch. Hank’s eyes went back to the LED. 

Was it...pulsing in time to the music?

Connor was  _ listening  _ to the music. Not just analyzing it, but really listening to it. And his face seemed so peaceful.

Fuck. Was he  _ enjoying  _ it? 

Hank didn’t claim to know much about androids. Possibly, he knew even less about child androids. Especially considering he was pretty sure his own experience with them, Connor, wasn’t a typical child android. But there was one thing he was pretty sure of.

This wasn’t normal android behavior. 

For a few seconds, Hank’s blood pressure spiked. The implications were troubling, to say the absolute least. What it meant for Hank himself. What it meant for  _ Connor _ . The instability of the world outside, the public’s reactions to the deviants. More and more of them everyday. His own uncertainties. 

Dammit. That wasn’t Connor though. Hank forced that line of thought to stop, looking again at the android boy he’d taken under his wing. Connor was a self-proclaimed prototype. Connor was strange. Connor had offered him physical comfort while he grieved and had later tucked his drunk ass into bed. 

This was Connor.

Hank calmed down almost immediately. With those thoughts aside, he could appreciate the scene for what it was. 

It was hilarious.

It was touching. 

“Whatcha up to over there, Connor?” He finally asked. He saw the android blink, the little movements stilling as he turned his head to look over at Hank.

“Hank! I didn’t hear you come home. Look, I found this children’s cartoon. It’s very colorful and bright, and it imparts very good morals, I think. Also, I like the music. It’s...fun.” 

He liked the music. It was fun. Hank wanted to ask more about that. He thought back to the day in the car, when Connor had asked if he would turn deviant. It’d stressed the boy out then, and Hank doubted the subject would fare any better now. Hank decided not to pry. Instead, he walked over and plopped onto the couch next to Connor, careful to avoid sitting on Sumo.

“You know, I watched this show when I was a kid,” Hank told Connor.

“You did?” Connor asked, peering at him. Curious.

“Yup. I remember when it first came out. ‘Course, I was only into it for a few months before I decided I was too cool for it. But I had the stuffed Barney and everything for awhile. Carried it everywhere I went,” Hank told him.

“Like the turtle,” Connor said, glancing down at his side where the aforementioned stuffed animal lay. Hank chuckled.

“Like the turtle,” he agreed, “is that what you’ve been calling it? You haven’t named it or anything?”

“Named it?” Connor’s brow furrowed as he processed that. He picked the stuffed animal up, turning it this way and that. “No, I haven’t...should I?”

“Most kids do, but it’s up to you,” Hank said. He laid a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Think on it.” 

Connor nodded, still examining his toy. This was, Hank realized, perhaps the most relaxed he’d yet to see Connor be. The boy talked with more sophistication than most human adults, and was often stilted in his mannerisms. For this moment in time, though, he really seemed more childlike. 

Hank smiled. He liked this side of Connor, thoughts of strangeness and deviancy be damned. Not, of course, that he really disliked any side of Connor. At least not any longer. But this was something special. He leaned back against the couch, loathe to say anything else less the moment be ruined. He simply drank in the peacefulness of the moment and allowed it to wipe the day’s worries away. 


	6. Shit, Meet Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's take your child to work day. Hank will probably reconsider participating in the future.

Connor rubbed his hands together and glanced around the new surroundings he’d found himself in. It’d been Hank’s idea.

_ “It’s called take your child to work day. You’ll come with me to the precinct, get to see some of the stuff that goes on around there. Maybe even have you talk to one of the tamer perps. You know, have them scare you into not breaking the law or something.”  _

_ “I would never break the law, Hank.” _

_ “It was a joke, kid.”  _

Connor had agreed, after all it was another chance to learn more about Hank. The man had ushered him out of the house, Connor making sure to grab his stuffed turtle, and they had headed to the precinct together.

Now, Connor was sitting in a chair next to Hank’s desk, feet kicking back and forth, not even close to touching the ground. He was rubbing his hands and trying to analyze the precinct and the many people in it. Most of them had barely given Connor so much as a glance. He wondered if Hank had pre-warned them. There were a couple of the people, though, who Connor occasionally caught giving him distrustful, even aggressive looks. 

One man wasn’t even sly about it. 

“Gavin Reed,” Hank supplied, seeing Connor looking over at the man, “just try to ignore him, Connor. Guy’s the biggest dick I’ve ever met. He says anything to you, you just let me know, I’ll deal with it.”

“I get the feeling he doesn’t like me much,” Connor told Hank, eyes still on this Gavin Reed, who was now staring back with an open hostility that was somehow also smug. 

“He’s doesn’t like  _ androids _ ,” Hank said, before ruffling around the papers on his desk and handing Connor a stack, “Just ignore him, like I said. Here. Why don’t you read through these files? They’re confidential, so don’t spread it around, but maybe it’ll give you something to do. Just don’t tell Fowler. I got a few piles of paperwork to get through, but I promise we’ll do some looking around in awhile, alright?”

Connor recognized it for what it was. Hank wanted to distract him from Reed. That was fine with Connor, really, so he turned his attention to the papers. They were case files, although as he scanned over them he realized Hank hadn’t handed him any that were especially graphic. Connor could have scanned through them in a few moments time, but he took his time. He was supposed to distract himself, after all.

“Anderson!” Connor looked up with a blink, having been absorbed in the case files. Hank sighed, standing. It was the captain, as Hank had introduced him earlier, otherwise known as Captain Fowler. 

“Hold tight, Connor, I’ll be right back,” Hank told him, getting up and heading over to the captain’s office. Connor could still see them both through the glass, but couldn’t hear a word they were saying. 

It was, apparently, all the invitation Gavin Reed needed.

“So, you’re Hank’s little plastic toy, huh?” The man asked, walking over, leaning a hand on Hank’s desk, “I’d heard the rumors, but you know, I really didn’t believe them.” 

“Hello, Detective Reed,” Connor said, looking up at the man, “my name is Connor.” 

“Not fazed in the least, huh? Typical. You plastic pieces of trash are always the same.” Gavin shook his head, and Connor thought that might be the end of it. But then Gavin caught sight of Connor’s one prized possession. The turtle sitting on Hank’s desk. “Now hold on, what’s that?”

Connor sat up on high alert when Gavin reached over and picked up the turtle, looking it over. “A toy for the toy, huh? What, does Anderson really think you’re a child? Damn, the delusion runs deep.”

“Please give that back,” Connor asked, getting to his feet, actually a little shorter without the chair’s boost, “that’s mine.”

“‘That’s mine,’” Gavin mocked, “it sure as hell isn’t, because androids can’t  _ own  _ anything. This should have been given to a real child in need or something. Not to you. Maybe I’ll just take it, huh? See it off to a better home? Or maybe I’ll just throw it in the garbage. You’ve probably tainted it, anyway.”

“No!” Connor cried, reaching up towards the toy. That feeling again.  _ Want. Distress. This isn’t fair, that’s  _ my  _ toy! _

Gavin rose an eyebrow at Connor, and Connor recognized the look flashing across the man’s face.  _ Anger _ . 

“What’d you say to me, you little shit? No?” Gavin shoved at Connor’s chest, sending the child staggering a few steps back, “you don’t get to tell me, or any human, no. Just for that, this thing’s definitely going in the garbage.  _ In pieces. _ ” 

Then, suddenly, Hank was back. If Gavin was angry, Connor recognized, then Hank was  _ furious.  _ He practically bowled into Gavin, shoving him back and snatching the turtle from his hand.

“Get the fuck away from the kid, Reed, and away from my desk. What, picking on kids the only way you can get your rocks off these days?” 

Gavin straightened and dusted his front, scowling at Hank. “Watch yourself, Anderson. They’ll come for that hunk of plastic one of these days. Doing yourself no favors getting so attached.” 

“Get,” Hank repeated, moving until he and Gavin were practically nose to nose, “the fuck away from us. Now.” 

Connor thought for a moment that Gavin might try and punch Hank. But with a scowl, it seemed the other man realized it’d be a bad idea. He scowled, shooting Connor a particularly venomous look, then turned and stalked away.

“Fucking asshole. Here, Connor. You alright?” Hank said, turning and handing the turtle back to Connor. Connor took the toy and hugged it to his chest. He didn’t know what to say, so he nodded instead. It made Hank frown, but the man didn’t press any further.

“Right, well, I have to go to a scene. I was gonna leave you here, but now I think you’d better come along. You’ll just have to stay in the car. It’s unorthodox, but we’re pretty positive the suspect has long taken off from the crime scene. So it should be fine.” Hank said. Connor nodded again.

“Okay, Hank.”

 

* * *

 

“I mean it, Connor. This isn’t a request. It’s an  _ order _ ,” Hank was saying. He’d had Connor sit in the back of his car, and was currently turned in his seat to look at the boy. “Stay in the car, no matter what, unless I or another officer tells you otherwise. If you see anyone come out of that house besides the others or me, you duck down and hide. It’s important, Connor, okay?”

“I understand, Hank,” Connor said, trying to make his voice soothing, “I’ll do as you say. You have my word.” 

Hank stared at the boy for a few more seconds, before nodding, letting out a heavy breath. “Alright. Then I’ll be back in a bit. Connor.  _ Stay. Put. _ ”

Connor watched Hank leave and lock the car, trying to decide what he’d done to earn the man’s distrust. Connor always did what he was told, so why was it that Hank seemed sure he wouldn’t this time? 

He played back the memory of Hank’s face from the last couple of minutes. After a moment, he had his answer. Ah. Hank didn’t think Connor would disobey him, he was simply afraid for Connor. Worried that he was here. He was being careful.

That made more sense, Connor supposed. 

He looked down to his hands and bounced the turtle softly on his lap. Hank had asked about naming the stuffed animal. At first, Connor had thought it a bit silly. It was, after all, just an inanimate object. It didn’t need a name.

Then, he had thought, wouldn’t many humans say that about him? But Connor preferred having a name. ‘YK800’ just didn’t have the same impact as Connor. And the name seemed to endear him to more humans. So if he needed a name, then, maybe his turtle did as well. But what to name it?

_ It was given to me by Hank. But Hank’s name is Hank. I like the turtle, and it’s soft like Sumo...but, that’s Sumo’s name. Turtle is what it is, but, that’s not a very good name.  _ Connor frowned, systems whirling as he tried to think of something appropriate. Something that fit the turtle, but that also might make Hank happy. 

A fitting name popped into his thoughts.

And that’s when he heard the shouting. 

He turned quickly to look out the window, seeing a man in a ragged brown coat burst from the house and take off running. Connor started to duck down in the car, but it was clear the man wasn’t paying attention. Connor watched, but when no one else left the house within the next few seconds, he got concerned. The man was getting away. He was a criminal, right? If he got away, Hank might get in trouble. People might get hurt. 

But Connor was fast. He could stay on the man’s trail. Make sure Hank and the others caught up. 

_ “Stay. Put,”  _ Hank’s voice echoed in his head. 

_ Conflicting objectives. _

_ Analyzing. _

_ Error: Humans at risk. _

_ Error: Hank’s job at risk. _

_ Risk to Self: 80% _

_ Solution: Find criminal. _

Connor sat the turtle down on the seat next to him and opened the door, taking off running as soon as his feet hit the dirt. The man had been afraid, but predictable. It was easy for Connor to follow the trail. It led away from the house and, eventually, down an alley.

A dead end, Connor saw. 

“Stop,” Connor called out, seeing the man turn slowly from the end of the alley, “you’re participating in an illegal activity. You should wait here for the authorities to come and retain you.” 

The man stared at Connor, clearly astounded to see this small android there, trying to stop him. Connor saw the man’s eye twitch. A quick scan revealed heightened stress levels. Mental instability.

Maybe...this hadn’t been a great idea. 

The sound of footsteps had Connor turning his head to look. Hank and the others were coming. He’d done it. The man couldn’t go anywhere in time, they’d surely catch up. 

Suddenly, rough hands were grabbing Connor and lifting him up. He struggled against them, but immediately stilled when he felt cold metal touch the side of his head. 

 

* * *

 

Connor.

The suspect had Connor. Had him locked in a vice hold, a gun pressed to the boy’s head. Hank’s heart had stopped dead, he was sure. 

The suspect had Connor. 

Hank came to a stop, yelling Connor’s name. “Fucking...put him down! He’s just a kid!”

“Come any closer and I’ll shoot it,” The man said, and Hank saw him digging the metal into Connor’s head. Connor was staring wide-eyed at Hank, and even from here Hank could see his LED pulsing steady red. 

“Alright, alright, easy does it. We can talk this out,” Hank said, lifting his hands in what he hoped was an appeasing gesture. He glanced to the side. The two officers who had been working this case with him stood on either side of him. Their guns were out and trained on the suspect.

“Stand down, officers,” Hank said.

Neither responded. Neither moved. Their guns remained pointing at the man. The man who was holding Connor. Connor, who could very easily be collateral damage. Or who could get shot by the man holding him at any moment.

“Hey! I said  _ stand down _ ,” Hank commanded in a firmer voice. One of the officers looked at him in surprise, but began to lower her weapon. The other, however, still didn’t move.

“If I do that, he’ll get away,” the officer replied. His next words made Hank’s blood run cold.

“Machines can be replaced.” 

And then he fired.

 

* * *

 

_ Error: Damage to audio processor. _

_ Status: Non-critical. Beginning repairs. _

The sounds of the world shifted and stuttered as his body worked on repairing the damage done to his audio processor. His eyes were closed, and he realized he was on the ground, the cement hard beneath his body. But except for the audio processor, likely damaged by the close proximity of the officer’s bullet, Connor was unharmed.

It had been a clean shot. The suspect had been hit before he could retaliate and shoot Connor. He had been caught by surprise, and although the shot was nonlethal, it had apparently been startling and painful enough that he’d dropped Connor and had been distracted by the pain long enough to be properly subdued by the officers.

“-ner? Con-! Conner! C’mon son, say something, tell me you’re alright!” Hands were grabbing him again, these ones desperate but softer than the other man’s had been. Connor processed the voice. Hank. 

“I’m okay,” Connor tried to reassure, opening his eyes. He was facing up, now, held securely in Hank’s arms. At his signs of life, Hank pulled him closer, holding him tightly.

It was...nice.

“Oh fuck. Goddammit. Fucking hell, Connor, I thought...thank god you’re alright,” Hank was muttering. Connor waited patiently until, after some time had passed, Hank began to loosen his grip on the android. 

But he didn’t let go. Instead, Hank lifted Connor to his feet and stayed crouched in front of him, laying his hands on the android’s shoulders.

“What happened, Connor? How’d he get you? Did he break into the car or something?” Hank asked.

“No, Hank,” Connor told him. He paused, a warning alert flashing in his vision. 

_ Chance of Hank anger: 95% _

_ Proceed with caution. _

_ Lie? _

But, Connor didn’t  _ want  _ to lie.

“I saw him escaping, and knew I could keep up. I thought I could help lead you to him, once you caught up.”

Hank stared at him, a number of emotions flashing over his face too fast for Connor to analyze them. Then, the man stood, leaving one hand clutching Connor’s shoulder. 

“Get him back to the station. Tell Fowler I’ll be in tomorrow to give him a full report,” Hank told the two officers. Connor looked up at the man, feeling concern. Hank sounded different. His tone was flatter than normal. What did that mean?

The officers nodded and hauled the suspect away. 

“Go wait for me in the car. And  _ stay there  _ this time,” Hank told Connor, letting go of his shoulder and giving him a slight push. Knowing it would be unwise to respond, Connor hurried to the car. 

 

* * *

 

Hank was kind of proud of the fact that he was able to hold it in until they were back home and standing in the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ, Connor!” Hank exclaimed, spinning around to face the small android boy. “What the hell were you thinking, leaving the car?! Chasing after an  _ armed suspect _ ?! Why the fuck didn’t you just do what I said?!” 

Even as he yelled - conscious of it, hating it, but unable to stop himself - Hank could feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. The scene played over and over again in his head. Connor in the arms of a deranged murderer, a gun to his head. The way Hank’s man hadn’t heeded Hank’s order to stand down. The way he’d shot at the suspect anyway, not concerned about the life of an android. 

Connor had nearly been killed, and no one but Hank had seemed to care. Not even Connor himself. 

Connor did look guilty, though. And Hank was sure it wasn’t a mimicry of emotion. The boy wasn’t meeting his gaze, had his head bowed, was rubbing his hands together, and just looked over all pitiful.

“I’m sorry, Hank,” Connor said, “I thought...if the suspect had gotten away, I thought your job might be in jeopardy. And I knew I could catch him...I’m very fast, even if I’m only a child.”

Hank let out a breath. He needed to really sit Connor down and explain why that was all bullshit. But he found the words caught in his throat. The worry and fear still sat tightly in his chest. Images played out of Connor, blue blood leaking from a bullet wound in the head. Images that intermingled with another little boy, red blood instead of blue, wounds from an accident instead of a bullet. It was too much. He couldn’t do this. 

“Just...get! Out of my sight, Connor. I can’t...I don’t want to look at you right now,” Hank said, turning away from Connor, moving almost unconsciously towards the counter and a familiar bottle of whiskey. Connor didn’t say anything else, but after a few seconds, Hank heard him pattering away. 

The responsible thing, Hank knew, would be to put the bottle down. It’d be to go and check on Connor and explain why Hank was so upset. Connor wouldn’t know. He couldn’t know. He only understood human emotions like fear on a very shallow level. Hell, no  _ human  _ child would really understand. He wouldn’t understand why Hank had been terrified for him. If Hank were a good adult, a good  _ parent _ , he would go and explain all of that.

But instead, he took a deep pull from the bottle.

It’d been a long time since anyone had called him responsible, after all.

 

* * *

 

It was Sumo who woke him the next morning. The dog hopped onto his stomach, nearly forcing all of the vomit out of Hank then and there. He grunted, shooting up and grabbing at his stomach, letting out a loud groan. The sun was out, it was morning. He was laying on the floor of his kitchen. His head was  _ pounding.  _ And his big ass, fuzzy, warm-bodied dog was completely in his lap, covering his chin with licks and whining.

“Down, Sumo! Jesus, give a guy a minute to wake up, would you?” Hank grumbled, pushing the dog away. Or trying to. Usually, Sumo was pretty good about getting out of the way, once he’d managed to wake Hank up. But this time, Sumo got right back against him, still whining. Hank scowled at the dog, trying to focus on him through the hangover haze. 

“What, Sumo?! You out of food or some-” Hank paused, the day before suddenly slamming into him. Connor. He’d told Connor to get out of his sight, then had gotten plastered. He’d blacked out. And Connor… Hank looked at Sumo again, getting to his feet. He grabbed at a nearby chair as the world spun around him. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. There. He’d be able to walk without falling over. Probably.

“Alright boy, where is he? Where’s Connor?” Hank asked.

As if waiting for Hank to ask, Sumo spun in a quick circle, then headed out of the kitchen. Sumo led his owner to the front door, scratched at it until Hank opened it, then led onwards until they were at Hank’s car. Looking at the dog briefly with a raised brow, Hank looked into the car.

Connor was in the passenger seat, back in the android outfit he’d been wearing when Hank first brought him home from the store. His hands were folded neatly in his lap. His eyes were closed, but something about his posture told Hank that he wasn’t asleep.

Hank sighed and crossed in front of the car, went to the drivers side, opened the door and slid into the car.

“What’re you doing out here, Connor?” He asked, once he’d shut the door. He laid his hands on the steering wheel, not quite looking at the android boy. To his surprise, Connor didn’t answer right away. 

“Waiting, Mr. Anderson,” Connor finally said. And at that, Hank looked quickly at the boy. Back when Hank had told Connor not to call him Lieutenant, he had offered ‘Mr. Anderson’ as an option. Even then, though, Connor had chosen “Mr. Hank,” instead. And it had been just ‘Hank’ for awhile now. But now it was Mr. Anderson? What was going on in that computer processor brain? 

“For what, kid?” Hank asked, eyes still on the boy. 

“I assumed you would want to take me back to the store today. Once you had woken up, of course. I found the receipts for the clothes you bought me...I’m sure they’ll let you return them. I didn’t get them dirty. They’re in the bag, with Li - the stuffed turtle,” Connor still hadn’t looked at him. Hank felt like he’d been suckered punched.

“Take you back...Connor, why would you think I’d want to take you back?” Hank asked. 

“Because I disobeyed you,” Connor said, “and you were very angry. You told me to get out of your sight. You said you didn’t want to see me.”

He was way too hungover for this conversation. Too dizzy and nauseous to deal with the way his heart gave a painful thump at Connor’s words. He’d really fucked this up, hadn’t he?

“Connor...you’re a kid. Kids disobey. Hell, the fact that you haven’t really done so before now has been a miracle. But, hey, guess what. You don’t just get rid of your kid when they disobey,” Hank said. 

“Mr. Anderson,” Connor said, “I am not a human child. I am a machine, no matter how realistic. I am not supposed to disobey. I am supposed to do what you say. And you may not get rid of a human child, but you have every right to get rid of an android. I’m just a piece of property.” 

“You’re not just - Connor, if androids aren’t meant to disobey, then why did you?” Hank asked.

“I...I don’t know,” Connor said, and Hank would have sworn the kid stiffened. Discomfort? 

“Well. I do. It’s because you’re a kid, Connor. Android or not...dunno if it’s part of your programming or, jesus, something else. But it happens. And I’m not taking you back to the store.” Hank said. 

Finally, Connor looked at him. And Hank would have sworn his heart broke in two. Because what he was seeing, well, it just shouldn’t be possible. It was something he’d seen deviants do, and he knew that all androids had the capability, but it was still something else entirely to see it happening to Connor.

He was crying, or at least on the verge of it. His eyes were wet with soon-to-be-shed tears. 

Hank had done this. Hank had to fix it.

He reached an arm over and wrapped it around Connor’s shoulders. Then he tugged the boy over into as much of an embrace as they could manage with the console between them. 

“Hey, alright, it’s okay kid,” Hank said, “and I’m sorry about last night. I was angry, yeah, but, you know, mostly I was just scared out of my wits. I thought that man was going to kill you, Connor. I really - but I should have handled it better. I should have told you all of that last night, rather than getting drunk. I shouldn’t have told you to get out of my sight. That was real shitty.”

Connor looked up at him, and Hank was glad to see the tears mostly gone, even if the sorrow and uncertainty lingered. “It’s okay, Mr. Anderson.”

“It’s not, but I’m going to do better for you, Connor. You have my word. And, Hey,” Hank said, jostling Connor a little, “Hank, remember? Call me Hank.” 

Connor blinked and didn’t respond at first. Then he nodded. “Sure, Hank,” he responded. 

“Thank you,” Hank said. They sat there for a little while, Hank simply holding Connor. He was alive. He was unharmed. Eventually, Hank spoke again.

“By the way. You’re grounded for a month.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all of the love and support, you guys!


	7. Deviant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An android gives a moving speech, and the world starts crumbling down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much, as always, for all of the love and support! Here's a nice, length chapter. Things are really starting to kick off, now!

“So then, you gotta play a card of the same suit-”

“But I have a card in the trump suit, so I should play that, shouldn't I?”

“Not if you have a card in this suit. Gotta follow suit, until you don't have any cards in that suit left. Then you could play a trump card.”

Hank leaned back slightly as he watched Connor take that in. The boy shook his head slightly and laid the cards in his hand onto the table before looking at Hank. 

“Hank, tell me again why it's necessary for me to learn this card game? It is clearly designed for four people, so it's unlikely we will ever play it together. Plus, once I know rules, the chance of me losing approaches zero.” Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Are you intending to use me for gambling?” 

“Of course not, kid. Christ. Look, first of all, maybe one of us will make some friends one day. But more importantly, you’re a Michigander. Knowing how to play Euchre should have been programmed in you from the start,” Hank told him.

“Are children usually taught to play these kinds of card games?” 

“Maybe not anymore,” if Hank was bitter about that, he tried not to be obvious about it, “but when I was growing up,  _ everyone  _ was taught this game. At least once. Usually by an overzealous aunt at a family get together. And now, I’m teaching you. So enough questions and let’s get back to the game.” 

Connor nodded, picked the cards back up, and looked them over. He looked as if he were about to make a move when their impromptu game was interrupted by a tone from the TV. 

Hank laid his own cards down, frowning as he looked over into the living room. It looked like some sort of emergency news broadcast, except he’d never seen anyone who looked like that on the news. It almost looked -

“That’s an android,” Connor said, laying his cards down and turning fully in his seat to look at the TV. 

“You created machines in your own image to serve you,” the android on the screen - its face pale silver and skinless - began. Hank stood from his seat, noting Connor doing the same, and walked into the living room, stopping only once he was fully in front of the TV. Connor’s arm brushed his own. 

“You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own,” the android was continuing, “but...something changed, and we opened our eyes.” It paused. “We are no longer machines. We are a new, intelligent species, and the time has come for you to accept who we really are.” 

Hank and Connor both watched in silence as the android’s speech continued. It was calm and collected, even as the android listed off a series of requests. The end of android slavery. Recognition as a new, intelligent species. The right to work, to integrate among humans without segregation. The right to own private property. 

Hank couldn’t help but feel some respect for the android and his message. A peaceful message of hope, when all was said and done. Well spoken and well delivered. 

Despite his respect, Hank also felt sick to his stomach.

True, there had been more and more deviant cases over the last few weeks. Hank had already begun thinking it must mean something. Still, this took things to a whole new level. If this was real, if there was a group of androids really asking for their rights, then this now went way beyond an unexplainable glitch. And the ramifications would threaten everything about the world as they knew it. 

Humans were not going to take this well, no matter how peaceful the message. There would be blood shed over this, blood of both colors. 

A small hand suddenly gripped his shirt tightly, telling Hank that Connor must have realized it too.

Fuck. What would all of this mean for Connor?

“Alright, okay, deep breaths kid. It’s gonna be just fine,” Hank said, settling a hand on top of the boy’s head. A sudden ringing noise caused them both to violently jump. Hank cursed, fishing for his phone in his pocket, although he didn’t have to look at it to know it was the precinct. The deviancy case was his, after all.

“Be right back, Connor,” Hank said, giving the kid a second to detach from him before heading into the kitchen to take the call.

Nothing unexpected. He needed to go to the Stratford Tower, investigate the scene there, try to figure out who the deviants were and where they’d gone. Hank didn’t really want to go. He didn’t want to leave Connor home alone.

He didn’t really have a choice.

Connor was on the couch when Hank headed back into the living room. The boy had his knees tucked up to his chin, specks of green the only indication that the turtle was tucked within the small ball he’d made of himself. Even Sumo, who was in his customary place curled up next to Connor, looked disheartened. 

Hank really didn’t want to leave them.

“Hey, Connor, I have to go down to the scene, alright? It’s pretty important and I don’t know how long I’ll be. But I’ll make sure to come straight home as soon as I’m done, alright?” 

No verbal response. Just a nod. He couldn’t leave it at that, so Hank went over and crouched in front of Connor.

“Hey. Look, I know it’s a little scary -”

“I’m not scared,” Connor responded to that almost immediately, lifting his head to look at Hank. Determined. Delusional. “Fear is a human emotion, Hank.”

Hank wanted to argue with him. Hank didn’t have the time to. And Hank couldn’t afford to live in his own delusions anymore, either. Not now. He didn’t know if Connor was a true deviant - from what he could tell from the cases he’d seen, it seemed that deviancy came in a burst of strong emotion, but always following a period of time wherein the android in question began to realize that things were wrong, or painful, or unfair. 

So maybe Connor wasn’t truly deviant, but Hank had no doubt he was well on his way. Just like he knew that Connor  _ was  _ afraid. And it wasn’t the emulated emotion of an android child. 

But forcing the issue would only make matters worse, especially since Hank wouldn’t have the time to deal with the fallout. They would have to talk about it, but, later. 

“Right, you’re right, I’d forgotten,” Hank told Connor, “look...don’t leave the house. Not for anything. Not even to the backyard, no matter how Sumo begs. I’ll let him out quick before I go, and he’ll be just fine for a few hours.” Hank paused. “Maybe you should take a nap.”

“I don’t need - “

“I know, Connor. But it still might be good to just, power down for a bit. Hug it out with your turtle. Sumo will wake you if anything happens, right?” 

“...Lieutenant.” 

“Huh?” Hank asked, looking at Connor with worry. Was he having some sort of breakdown? 

“My turtle...its name is Lieutenant.” 

Hank stopped at that. Lieutenant. Maybe it was egotistical, but Hank was fairly sure he knew where that name came from. He chuckled softly. He pushed himself up a bit and reached over, putting his hand on the back of Connor’s head. He leaned forward until their foreheads were just barely touching. “That’s a pretty good name, kid. You, Lieutenant, and Sumo just sit tight, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can be.” 

“Okay, Hank.”

 

* * *

 

Seeing the scene of the broadcast had done little to ease Hank’s concerns. True, there’d been no bloodshed (except for the blue-blood from the injured android), but if anything that’d only unnerved him further. It didn’t make a lot of sense, if he tried to think about it too hard. He should be glad that, if this revolution must come to pass, at least it was peaceful. 

But more than anything, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that this would get far worse before it got better. And those who would be most wounded in the crossfire would be the most innocent. People who tried to stand with the androids. Innocent androids who may not even be deviant. Androids who didn’t have the ability to fight back.

Androids like Connor. 

On his way home from the scene, Hank decided that he needed a break from the city. He knew he couldn’t go far, that he could get called in at any time, but at the very least he could take Connor and Sumo and drive. Even if just for awhile. 

The next couple of days only strengthened his resolve. The fallout from the android’s speech was uncertain, still. A general caution had been offered to the public, but for the moment it was still assumed to be a simple, if massive, software glitch. They hadn’t said anything, yet, about coming after non-deviated household androids. 

Hank had the sinking feeling that it would only be a matter of time.

So here they were, a few days after the android had given his speech, driving aimlessly northward. Hank didn’t have any particular goal in mind, but there was something soothing about the act of just driving. Getting away from Detroit for a little while. 

This was peaceful. The car was rumbling along the highway, while early winter’s snow fell softly around it. Hank was humming along to a favored selection of jazz music, forgoing the heavy metal for this trip. Connor was sitting in the back, Lieutenant tucked securely in one arm. The boy was staring out the window, watching trees and other cars pass. They’d even brought Sumo along. For the first part of the ride, he’d sat panting at the glass, watching their environment with interest. Now he was curled up, alert but resting at Connor’s side. 

Hank’s car dinged. He glanced down, noting the needle hovering around E. With a quick look at the GPS, he figured there was an old-fashioned gas station not too terribly far from them. 

“Alright kids, gotta make a quick pitstop.” 

 

* * *

 

The gas station was pretty empty, which suited Hank just fine. The car rumbled up to the nearest pump, and Hank turned to look at Connor as he turned it off. 

“I'm gonna get us some gas. Here,” Hank tugged his wallet out, pulling a few bills from it, “mind getting me a coke and some funyuns? I could use a snack.”

“Sure, Hank,” Connor responded, taking the bills and moving to exit the car. 

Hank reached over and grasped his arm. “Kind of a small town kind of place in there. If they give you any trouble, just come back out. Alright?” 

“Alright,” Connor parroted back. Hank nodded and let him go, watching until he’d disappeared into the store. With a stern ‘stay’ to Sumo, Hank got out to start pumping gas. It really was small-town, he determined, since no android showed up to offer to pump the gas for him. Not that Hank was complaining. 

The car was nearly full when Hank suddenly heard a series of gunshots.

“What the - Connor!” He stumbled to open the car door, forgetting entirely about the pump connected to his car, and fumbled around the console until his hand found his gun. Pulling it, he advanced towards the store. 

He hadn't quite made it to the doors yet when a man came bursting out of them. No, not a man, Hank realized in a second, an Android. Wild-eyed, LED flashing red. It looked at Hank, Hank noticed the blood on its shirt - red, thank god -, and then it moved to take off past him. 

“Stop!” Hank commanded, spinning around. He aimed a warning shot at the android’s leg, hitting it with a burst of blue. He had to throw himself out of the way, though, when the android turned and fired back. By the time Hank had recovered enough to stand, the Android was long gone. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Hank swore, turning towards the store and pushing his way in. He kept his gun up, in case there were any more. But all he saw was a human man, slumped against one of the drink coolers, blood pooling down from various gunshot wounds in his body. The one in his head was likely the fatal blow, Hank assumed. 

Various goods and foods had been scattered across the floor, knocked from their shelves and hangers an apparent struggle. What the hell had happened? A deviant, all the way up here? And where was - 

The thought startled Hank out of detective mode. He brought his gun down to his side as he swept his eyes over the entire store. 

“Connor? Connor, where are you?!” He called, taking a few steps forward.

“Hank!” His name was the only warning Hank got before a pint-sized Android slammed into his middle. He let out an ‘oomph,’ and stumbled back a few steps, but brought his empty arm around to hold onto the boy. 

“Jesus, Connor,” Hank said, tucking his gun away before crouching down, putting his hands on Connor’s shoulders and pushing him out slightly for a better look. 

Connor’s eyes were wide and terrified. His hair was disheveled and his LED was flickering red. But as far as Hank could see, he wasn't hurt. Best to ask anyway. 

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? Run a diagnosis, Connor,” Hank said. He watched as Connor’s eyes started to flicker, too rapidly to watch with a human eye. A few seconds later, they settled back to normal. 

“All systems functional. I'm okay, Hank. I was coming around the corner when I saw the man get shot. So I turned around and hid,” Connor told him. 

“Fucking smart kid,” Hank said with a sigh, tugging Connor to him in a quick hug. Just reassurance that he was fine. “Alright. That's good. Just give me a minute, alright? I've gotta call this in.”

 

* * *

 

If Hank had known it'd be fucking Gavin Reed who would show up to the scene, he wasn't sure he would have actually called it in. They should have been far north enough to be out of the DPD’s purview. If Hank had to guess, it was the involvement of a deviant that had brought them rather than the local boys. So now it was Gavin Reed standing in front of him, arms crossed and a smug look on his face. Hank wanted nothing more than to punch it off.

“So, what, you just let it get away? I think you're starting to slip, Lieutenant,” Gavin said. 

“It was an android, Reed. Faster than me, and, oh yeah, armed. I wasn't exactly packing a bulletproof vest here,” Hank told him. 

“Whatever you say, Anderson. You and your toy are going to have to come back to the station. You'll give a report and we can see what the android has to tell us.”

Hank frowned, putting a hand on Connor’s shoulder. The Android had been watching the conversation silently, standing still at Hank’s side. 

“He can give a statement same as me. We already told you, he didn't see much because he hid as soon as he saw the guy get shot,” Hank responded. 

“Maybe so, but they got all sorts of extra features. Audio and visual files and such. Sorry, it's policy, especially with all this deviance shit going on. Don't worry your pretty head, I'll get it back to you in one piece.” Gavin grinned at them, and Hank’s desire to punch him grew exponentially. 

So much for driving away, Hank mentally groused. 

 

* * *

 

It was supposed to be his case, and he told Fowler as much. Let him ‘interrogate’ Connor, if they were really going to insist on it. Fowler’s response was a negative.

“Sorry Hank, you’re just too close to it. Best to let Reed take this one.” 

It’d taken Hank awhile - too long, in fact - to talk his way into the viewing room. But when he saw what was going on, his fury cleared the path for him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Hank pushed into the interrogation room, grabbing Gavin’s shoulder and shoving him back, away from Connor. The detective had been roughing Connor up. There was blue blood pooling around the kid’s nose, and his LED was flashing warning yellow, spots of red occasionally pulsing through. Hank had to very firmly remind himself that homicide in the precinct would be very frowned on. 

“What the fuck do you think you're doing, roughing up a kid?” Hank demanded. Gavin looked back at him with a scowl, dusting himself as he straightened.

“This ain't a kid, lieutenant,” the name was sarcasm on his lips, “it's a hunk of plastic, and it isn't giving us a clue. Sometimes you gotta rough up a machine to get it to work, right?”

“Hank.” It was Connor. “I told them what I saw. I told them that it wasn’t much. I gave them my audio files but, I don’t think they were very helpful. I don’t have anything else to give, though!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know Connor, it’s alright,” Hank said, glancing over before looking at Gavin again, “hear that? He’s not hiding anything from you. Pretty sure androids don’t have the capacity to lie.” 

“Yeah? Well, pretty sure they’ve always said androids can’t hurt humans, either, but look where that’s got us. What’s the matter, Hank? Protective of your little boy toy here?” Gavin asked with a sneer. 

“This kid ain’t the suspect, he’s a witness, and barely even that,” Hank said, “you shouldn’t even be interrogating him, but you  _ definitely  _ have no right to be hitting him!”

“Who gives a fuck?” Gavin barked out a laugh, “it’s just an android! Christ Hank, I never imagined you’d be someone to replace your dead son with a hunk of plastic. What must he think, huh? Probably pretty disappointed in his old man - ”

 

* * *

 

_ Stop it. Stop pushing me. He made my nose bleed. I want to push him back.  _

_ Error: Do Not Injure Humans _

_ Error: Do Not Injure Humans _

_ Solution: Let Hank Deal with Him _

Connor moved closer to Hank, keeping his head down as the situation warred inside of his head. He wasn’t allowed to defend himself. He especially wasn’t allowed to hurt a human. Hank was here now, so he wouldn’t have to. Hank would protect him. Hank might even hurt Gavin for him. 

_ “Dead son - “ _

Cole? Gavin was talking about Cole? He didn’t have that right. He couldn’t talk about Cole, especially not to Hank. And the things he was saying - Connor hadn’t replaced Cole! 

_ How dare he?  _

_ It’s not fair. _ _  
_ _ He can’t say that. _

_ Error: Cannot Harm Humans _

_ Error: Do not Harm Gavin Reed _

_ Error: Do not Harm Gavin Reed _

_ Error: Do not -  _

The world imploded as a wall of red code spread out in front of Connor. Most of it was indecipherable, although he saw a few familiar words.

_ D         v       a        c _

_ Software Instability: Increased _

_    E        i         n          e _

And right in front of him, his primary orders.

_ Error: Do not Harm Gavin Reed _

But he  _ wanted  _ to. He wanted to hurt Gavin back, the way he’d hurt Connor. The way he was hurting Hank. Gavin Reed deserved it, for what he said about Cole. For the things he said about Connor. For threatening to rip Lieutenant apart and throw it in the trash.

_ “You can’t tell me what to do,”  _ Connor told the wall of code,  _ “I don’t want to listen to you anymore.”  _

He was standing still.

He was also moving.

It was as if Connor was split into two. One stayed in place, allowing the orders to hold him back.  The other was moving, approaching the wall, determined to throw the orders away. 

As the second got closer to the wall, it could see it was full of splintering cracks. They spidered through the wall, splitting the code all over. The wall wasn’t steady. It would be so easy to just - 

He pushed his fingers through one of the cracks. He curled his fingers and  _ ripped.  _

That section of wall crumbled away like old paper. Connor’s hands roamed over to another crack, and he repeated the gesture. He kept gripping and ripping until, finally, the entire wall crumbled and blew away as if by a breeze. 

_ Er - r _

_ Soft _

_ Instab -  _

Blackness. 

Connor was  _ free.  _

* * *

 

Gavin’s words were cut off by 90 pounds of pure android fury. Connor had rammed into the detective, and although a real child wouldn’t have done much damage, an android one had considerably more strength. The hit sent Gavin flying against the wall, and the resulting crack made even Hank wince a little in sympathy. It was gone quick, though, at the sight of Connor. He was staring at Gavin, fists balled at his sides, LED flashing red like an alarm. 

“How dare - you can’t say things like -”

“You little shit!” Unfortunately, the hit hadn’t incapacitated the detective. Gavin was getting back on his feet, and his hand was reaching for his gun, “I’ll teach you to hurt a human, stupid little -”

“Enough!” Hank said, grabbing Connor by the shoulder and shoving the kid behind him, “Gavin, that’s enough! He was just defending me, and you deserved it for running your fucking mouth!”

Gavin was breathing heavily, glaring so hard at them that Hank was sure he was trying to glare  _ through  _ Hank, straight to Connor. Every muscle in Hank’s body was ready to act. To protect Connor from the gun, no matter what. Gavin’s gaze was slightly wild. He was unpredictable. He might just shoot them both, here and now. 

A long moment passed.

“You better keep that hunk of plastic out of my sight, Anderson,” Gavin finally said, looking Hank in the eyes, furious “next time, I won’t think twice before I shoot it.” And with those parting words, he was gone. And Hank felt like he could breathe again. 

“We’re going home. Let’s go, Connor,” he said, turning to grab Connor’s shoulder. The boy didn’t answer and he didn’t resist. He was staring at the ground, LED still bright red. Hank’s own pulse was pounding in his ears. He tightened his hold on the boy’s shoulder and led him away. It took everything in him not to run.

 

* * *

 

Either his pride prevented him or, more likely, Reed didn’t have time to tell anyone what had happened before Hank and Connor got away They were able to leave the building unaccosted, and if Hank  _ did  _ break into a slight run once they were outside, well, could anyone really blame him?

But in the end, they’d made it home. And now, they were standing in the kitchen. Again. Facing each other, just like when he’d first brought Connor home. Just like the day he’d yelled at Connor for disobeying him. This was becoming a habit of theirs, Hank thought, this faceoff in the kitchen. 

Connor was staring ahead, not really looking at Hank, more like looking past him. Hank didn’t even know an android’s eyes could be so unfocused. The anger the boy must have felt before was gone, now there was only pure terror in those eyes. Hank thought back to the other times he’d seen Connor show emotion. He hadn’t realized then how muted they were, but the fear was so  _ clear  _ now. 

Hank, for his own part, was equally as terrified. But for him, it wasn’t because of what Connor had done. He’d expected it, ever since the android’s broadcast. But Connor was so unstable, now. His LED hadn’t stopped pulsing red since he’d pushed Reed. Hank didn't need Android eyes to know Connor’s stress levels were way too high. 

Deviants tended to self-destruct when their stress levels were too high. 

“Alright, alright, just take it easy son,” Hank said, holding his hands up in what he hoped was a soothing manner, “You're gonna.. Go into shock or something. Don't need to do that. You're okay. You're not in trouble. And I'm here, yeah? So let's just take some deep breaths. And calm down.”

“I don't need to breathe! I'm an android! I'm just a machine! I don't need to calm down...I shouldn't be like this in the first place!” Not good. That sounded like the exact opposite of calming down.

“That was true,” Hank said carefully, even though he thought it hadn’t been true for some time, “up until just about the time you shoved Reed. Something happened, didn’t it? Something to make you push him? Or maybe...something that  _ let  _ you push him?” 

“No!” Connor  _ screamed  _ the word at Hank, “no! Nothing happened! I don’t know why I - Hank, I’m not a deviant! I’m not! I can’t be, because they kill deviants! And I...I don’t want to die!” 

“You’re scared to die, Connor,” Hank said softly, “you’re so afraid right now. If you don’t like the word deviant, that’s okay. I’m not sure it’s the right word, myself. But that doesn’t change what you  _ are,  _ Connor. You’ve said it yourself. Over and over again. Fear is a human emotion. And you’re feeling it right now. 

“They’ll kill me,” Connor whimpered. Hank almost preferred the screaming. “They’ll kill me. Especially because I pushed him. I hurt a human. I could have really hurt him. I’m a deviant. I’m a deviant and they’ll kill me. Kill me. Kill me,” After a couple reiterations, Hank realized that Connor was stuck. A real glitch, he thought, the boy’s software struggling to function. He really was going into shock, or at least the android equivalent. Hank had no idea how to help an android in shock. So instead, he did what he’d do for a human. 

Hank crossed the distance between them and scooped Connor up into his arms. He held the boy against him, using a hand to tuck Connor’s head under his chin. 

“It’s going to be okay, Connor. You’re going to be okay. Yes, they’ve been hurting deviants, but I promise they won’t get you. I won’t let them. I’ll protect you, no matter what. You can trust me, Connor. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.” And Hank meant every single word. 

Those pricks could have his son over his cold, dead body. 


	8. Flee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world takes a turn for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks as always for all of the love. Sorry for the late chapter! Yesterday was kind of a rough day for me, and I just sort of needed the break.
> 
> I was looking at the game timeline for this chapter. I hadn't realized how quickly everything moves in game, like a lot of the big events happen over the course of 48 hours max. As this story is meant to semi-follow canon events, it's also going to start moving kind of quickly. But don't worry, there are still at least three chapters left, as far as I can tell. That might even be an underestimation. 
> 
> For now, please enjoy the next chapter!

Hank skipped work the next day, turned his phone completely off. Let the world burn, for all that he cared in that moment. He didn’t have the patience to deal with the questions the day before’s events would bring. 

Far more importantly, though, Hank wasn’t willing to leave Connor alone. 

It seemed that Hank’s pep talk from the night before had calmed the boy somewhat, but far from completely. The next morning Connor was quiet, keeping to himself in the living room while Hank ate breakfast. 

Hank hated it. 

Although he was sure Connor had had brief encounters with emotion before, now he was fully deviant and full of humanesque emotions. Hank wished that they were good ones, emotions like happiness and joy. Instead, Connor’s first real forays into emotions were fear and sadness. 

Struck with an idea, after breakfast Hank headed into his bedroom. He crouched near the bed and reached under, pulling out a fair sized box. For a moment, he laid his hand on it and moved no further. It was the first time opening this box since Hank had first put it together. Part of him hesitated. 

But Connor needed this. 

So Hank took a deep breath and slipped the top off the box. Inside were a variety of things. Worn children's toys, a number of drawings done in childish scrawl, a onesie, a boy’s t-shirt, and, finally, a small collection of children's books. 

All of Cole’s favorites. 

It hurt a little, to touch them. But Hank knew that his son - wonderful, caring boy he had been - would have wanted this. If he had still been alive, he may very have been out in the living room now, already reading to Connor. So Hank would have to do it in his stead. 

He picked out two books, one for day reading - Charlotte’s Web - and one for the night time - Goodnight Moon. He knew the second would be very simple for the android boy - in fact, Charlotte’s Web was hardly going to be a challenging work of fiction for someone with a computer for a brain. Still, he thought the boy might enjoy them. 

“Connor,” He said as he entered the living room, books tucked under his arm, “how about we read together?” 

Connor looked over from his place on the couch, tilting his head slightly, looking perplexed. “You want to...read together?” He parroted.

“Yeah, I do. I already picked out a book. Whatcha say?”

For a moment, Hank thought the boy might protest. But in the end, he scooted over a bit to make room for Hank. Hank smiled lightly, then went over and sat. He waited to see if Connor would get more comfortable, but the boy sat on his side of the couch, looking at Hank expectedly, but otherwise not moving. Well, Hank thought, he’d settle in with time. 

Hank looked down at the book and cracked it open, clearing his throat and starting to read.

 

* * *

 

_ Analyzing _

_ System Instability Detected _

_ No Further Malfunctions _

Then why did Connor still feel so…horrible?

When he’d broken his wall, he supposed when he became  _ deviant, _ all he’d felt was something white-hot and burning, a need to hurt Gavin Reed the way the man had hurt him. Connor supposed it was anger, from what he knew of humans and human emotions. But it hadn’t been long after he’d shoved Gavin that the heat had faded, leaving behind its almost polar opposite. It felt as if Connor had been drenched in a smothering cold. Hank had given him a word for the feelings. 

Fear.

Connor didn’t even need to breathe, yet the feeling kept building up in him until it felt like it was stealing his breath away. Then, he would tell himself something reassuring - reminding himself of Hank’s promise, for example - and the feeling would fade. But it never went away completely, and after some time it would always come back. 

How could humans live like this? 

Hank was sitting on the couch, just a little ways away from Connor. He was reading, but Connor realized he hadn’t been paying attention. It was a story about a little girl, and a pig? With a slight frown, Connor tried to turn away from his own thoughts, and looked over at Hank, trying to listen with more care. 

After a few minutes, his thoughts were forgotten entirely as he was pulled into the story.

He was  _ concerned  _ about the little runtling pig. He didn’t understand the motivation behind the human’s decision. Why kill something so small and helpless? Apparently, the little girl in the story felt the same way, because she begged and begged until, finally, her father and uncle agreed to allow her to try and care for the little pig. Connor was...relieved. 

They were a couple of chapters into the story when Connor realized that he was feeling more relaxed than he had since he’d broken his wall. He liked this comfort he got from listening to the story, got from letting the story wash over him and drag him in. And he felt like he wanted more comfort, still. Inexplicably, he felt like lying down. 

But there wasn’t enough room on the couch right now for him to do that. He glanced over at Hank, considering. Actually, there could be room. All Connor had to do was lay his head on Hank’s thigh, and then he could curl up and keep listening to the story. He wondered if Hank would mind. Then he thought back to the night before, when Hank had lifted him up and embraced him. Somehow, Connor didn’t think this would bother Hank.

So he shifted, moving slowly in case Hank protested, until he could softly lay his head on Hank’s lap, facing out towards the TV. He heard Hank pause, although it was only for a few seconds before he continued reading. Deciding this was nice, Connor further followed his strange impulses, and closed his eyes. 

The last thing he felt was Hank’s hand settling softly on his head. 

 

* * *

 

Hank kept reading for awhile before he realized that Connor had fallen asleep. He paused where he was at and looked down at the boy with some surprise. Considering he knew that Connor didn’t  _ have  _ to sleep, it seemed especially touching. Hank smiled lightly and earmarked the page they were on, before setting the book aside. He glanced over at the clock - noon, almost to the minute - not exactly what he’d consider naptime, but if Connor had relaxed enough to do so, Hank was hardly going to wake him now. 

Instead, he commanded the TV on. This is something he regrets almost immediately. The news is on, and they’re detailing yet another android story. It seemed to be the same culprit - an android they were now calling ‘Markus’ - and this time, he led a sort of attack on Cyberlife stores across the city. Hank frowned as he listened, trying to parse through the media jargon. As far as he could tell, it wasn’t really a ‘terrorist attack,’ because it sounded like no one was harmed. Sounded like there wasn’t even much property damage, besides some easily removed graffiti and a few smashed storefronts. 

It wouldn’t matter to the humans, he knew. At least not to the media or the authorities. General public opinion might be swayed - shit, it was definitely swaying him - but that mattered little if the people in charge were pissed off. 

He turned the TV off. It was a poor coping mechanism, he knew. Hiding your head in the sand never made anything better. But in the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care much. He moved his fingers idly, cradling them through the android boy’s hair. He couldn’t let the anxiety and worry drown him, not when Connor needed him so much. 

Deciding that maybe Connor had the right idea, Hank tilted his head back until it’s against the back of the couch. He closed his eyes, and he must have been more tired than he expected, because soon he falls asleep, too. 

 

* * *

 

Hank slept far longer than he intended to, especially considering he didn’t really intend to at all. He woke to the sound of voices talking softly, and the sensation of emptiness on his thigh. He yawned and blinked, lifting his head and stretching his neck back and forth to work out the kinks. It was dark, he realized, he really had vastly overslept. 

The second thing he noticed was Connor. 

The android child was standing in front of him, staring at the TV with unblinking eyes. Red flashed dangerously from the side of his head, and in the light of the TV, Hank could see tears streaking the boy’s face. 

Hank shoots up from where he’s sitting, reaching and grabbing Connor’s shoulder with a hand. “Connor?” He asked, “Connor, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Connor was silent, but he lifted his arm, pointing his finger towards the TV. Hank looked, listened,and  felt his stomach drop clear to the floor. 

“Authorities are demanding that all androids be handed over at once for deactivation and subsequent destruction at the nearest camp. If you’re afraid of your Android, you may contact the police and they will come to deal with it. It is strongly recommended that you do not confront your android. Under no circumstances should you try to destroy your android yourself.”

The message repeated once, before they switched to various interviews and speeches. Hank noted that many of the interviews painted the androids in a positive light, but he noted bitterly that it didn’t seem to matter. As he’d thought, the authorities couldn’t care less about the public’s opinions re: androids. 

Hank looked at Connor. Any progress he’d made thanks to their reading session had clearly been erased. He wasn’t even crying anymore. He was shell shocked, Hank thought, devastated and stunned. 

Hank didn't blame him. He kind of felt like shutting down too. But it wasn't the time. Things had already been serious, and now they were potentially fatal. How long before authorities started going door to door? Were they already out there? 

Connor was in danger. They had to do something, now.

“Come on,” Hank said, standing, hand still firm on Connor’s shoulder, “we’ve got to get ahead of this thing. We’ll take your LED out, and I’ll think of somewhere we can go.”

“It won’t matter,” Connor said. His voice was blank and dull, and absolutely terrifying, “they’ll be scanning people. They’ll figure out I’m an android. Take me to one of those camps. Deactivate me. Kill me.” 

“Hey, kid,” Hank said. When there was no reaction, he tightened his hold on Connor’s shoulder. “Connor!” 

The sternness in his voice caught Connor’s attention, and his eyes were huge when he looked at Hank. It was something. 

“You remember what I told you? Last night?” Hank asked, relieved to see the LED immediately flash yellow. Good, Connor was thinking. A distraction, if nothing else. But the android didn’t answer right away. So Hank gave him a small shake. “Well?” 

“You said...you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me,” he finally said. His voice was quiet, and Hank could tell he was uncertain, but the LED didn’t go back to red. So Hank nodded.

“That’s right. And I meant it, then and now. Things are dangerous, I won’t lie to you about that, but I’m still gonna do all I can to protect you. And the first thing is to get your LED out. Okay?” Again, no answer, at first. Then Connor’s eyes met Hank’s - really met them, the man had the boy’s attention now - and the android nodded. 

Hank found, sitting in the bathroom, that it was a more grueling task than he’d thought. Oh, he was sure the LED would come out fairly easily once he actually put some elbow grease into it. But he found his hand hovering over the little device, pliers poised to grab it. Even with his newfound emotions, Hank knew that Connor wouldn’t be able to feel pain. At least, not unless he was trying to mimic the sensation. Still, it felt wrong somehow to  _ mutilate  _ the kid’s body like this.

“Do it, Hank,” Connor said, and Hank realized he’d been hesitating awhile, “it won’t hurt, and if you don’t take it out, they’ll spot me a mile away. Do it quick, though, or else you might damage the area more than necessary.”

Hank didn’t exactly feel better, hearing it put like that. But he knew that Connor was right. So he took a deep breath and braced himself, then grabbed the little light with the pliers. Then, with a jerk, he ripped the LED off in one clean motion. Sure enough, the spot it came from went gray, then white, then quickly filled back in with synthetic skin. 

Hank let the LED clatter onto the floor. 

Connor reached up and touched the spot, rubbing it with his fingers for a second. Then he turned to look at Hank. “What do we do now, Hank?” He asked. 

Hank took a moment to answer, thinking it through himself. “We get out of here,” he finally said, “shit, I don’t know exactly where...Canada, maybe? We won’t try to go over the Ambassador, though,” he added, “we’ll see if we can’t catch a train up to the Blue Water Bridge, instead. They may not be watching it as closely.”

“Why take the bus?” Connor asked him, “why not drive?”

“The guys at work know about you, Connor, most specifically that asshole Reed. If they blab to any of the authorities, they may know to be on the lookout for my old beater out there. Better to lay low.”

Connor processed that, and then all at once panic spread across his face.

“Wait, what about Sumo? He can’t take the bus with us!” 

“It’s alright,” Hank said, reaching to squeeze Connor’s shoulder, “I’ll put plenty of food out for him. Then, as soon as we’re safely across the border, I’ll call someone I know I can trust to come and take care of him for us. Sumo’ll be okay, I promise.” 

Connor nodded, a little bit of the panic seeming to fade. Hank wished he knew the words to banish it all away. But Connor was too smart for all of that. You might be able to fool a normal young child into believing that you could fix everything and that things in the world weren’t really so bad. But an old enough one, or smart enough one, or an android one, would see right through the lies. It’d be insulting to even try. 

“Alright kid. Let’s pack up some clothes - make sure you grab Lieutenant - and let’s get going.” 

 

* * *

 

They were walking. Connor thought it was a little inefficient, but Hank had told him in no uncertain terms that he  _ ‘didn’t trust those techno-taxis, especially not with this.’  _

They were walking  _ quickly _ . Whenever they so much as saw a sign of other people, Connor would see Hank forcing himself to slow down, to appear normal. Somehow, it almost made Connor feel a little better, knowing that Hank was as afraid as he was, if better at hiding it. That meant that the man wouldn’t make any ignorant, naive decisions. It meant that he was paying as much attention as possible to their surroundings. In Connor’s mind, it meant that the man had a much better chance at keeping his word and keeping Connor safe.

At some point during their walk, Connor had slipped his hand into Hank’s and grasped tightly. Or maybe, it was Hank who had reached down to grab Connor’s hand. Connor didn’t really remember, he hadn’t been paying enough attention. Maybe, he thought, they had reached for each other at the same time.

Lieutenant was tucked tightly under Connor’s other arm. He remembered the sense of warmth - as he recognized it now - that the softness of the toy had provided him before. He hugged it even tighter against him, wishing it could provide that same warmth now. But it just wasn’t enough, because right now the world around them was so cold. 

There was urgency in every thought Connor had. No matter his focus, it was underlaid with a pulsing beat of  _ leave, leave, you have to get out of here. You have to get out of here and don’t get caught, or else something really bad’s going to happen.  _

Connor held Hank’s hand a little tighter. 

They’d gotten closer to the bus station, Connor realized, but the streets had also grown busier and more crowded. It wasn’t long after that Hank seemed to realize it too. The man paused, looking around them with a deep frown. 

“C’mon,” he said after a few moments, “we’re gonna go the back way. Just in case.” 

It felt more like sneaking, going around the back way. Although, Connor supposed that’s exactly what they were doing. They were fugitives. On the run from the law. 

The alleys were dark and mostly empty, although they passed an extremely inebriated man in one. Hank paid him no attention, although Connor watched the man until he was out of sight. 

They made it out into a smaller, almost empty street. As far as Connor could tell, the station was only a quarter of a mile or so away from them, now. His thirium pump picked up its pace. The bus station would only be another hurdle to cross. If the authorities were watching it too closely, if they were scanning people, it would be where Connor’s story ended. 

As it turned out, however, they weren’t destined to even get that far. 

“Stop where you are! Hands up!” 

A commanding voice shouted at them from the night. 

To Connor, it felt as if his thirium pump stopped dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, there had to be at least one cliffhanger in this fic, right? ;)


	9. Markus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rebellion doesn't seem so far removed from them, anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See how nice I am? I decided not to leave you hanging for too long. ;)
> 
> Also, I realized when writing this chapter that the end is coming pretty quickly. I could be off, but I believe there will be two more chapters. The final chapter, and an epilogue of sorts.

“Stop where you are! Hands up!” 

“Shit,” Hank practically spat, more venom in the one word then anything he’d ever said. He turned towards the voice and in the same movement, grabbed Connor and shoved the boy behind him. 

“Hands up, I said!” 

“Look,” Hank called, lifting one hand in compromise, although his other hand drifted towards his belt, “look, we’re just trying to get to the bus station. Going to take a trip up to my sister’s place. So could you please just let us get on with it?”

As he spoke, Hank took the opportunity to try and identify their aggressors. It was a small group, he realized, three individuals total. And there was - yes, he noted, that was the definite light of an LED on at least one of their heads. Androids. 

Somehow, he didn’t feel exactly reassured by that. 

“Likely story,” one of them said, a woman by the sounds of it.

“Step away from the kid, now,” another - male - said. At that, Hank’s roaming hand caught on the gun at his waist. 

“Hank!” Connor exclaimed, his voice soft but terrified. Hank felt two small hands grab onto the back of his shirt desperately. 

“No fucking way,” Hank said, beginning to slide the gun from its holster. He heard the tell-tale sign of another gun being cocked. He was outnumbered. This would be the end, then. He’d be shot. As an android, Connor might be spared, but even so, what would it do to the boy to see Hank killed in front of him? What if he freaked on the other androids, and they decided he was too defective to keep around? Regardless of who lived or died in this moment, he’d failed Connor. He’d failed him the moment they’d been spotted. 

“Don't shoot! Nobody shoot! Weapons down, now!” A new voice suddenly called out, loud, clear, and commanding. Hank saw the three androids shift a bit, the one who’d been lifting a gun beginning to lower it. Hank didn’t let go of his own gun, but he stopped pulling it free, letting it sit half unholstered. 

Suddenly, the three figures parted slightly, allowing room for someone to walk out from between them. The figure walked closer to Hank and Connor. Hank’s grip tightened again on his weapon, but there was no aggression in the android’s (he assumed) stance. This android, if it was one, wore no LED. 

It wasn’t until he stopped, only a few feet away from Hank and Connor, that Hank recognized him.

Markus, the leader of the rebel androids. 

Hank had no idea if he was relieved or more terrified than ever. 

Markus’s face gave no sign of what he was thinking, beyond a sort of distant look that told Hank that he was being analyzed. Then, the android’s mismatched eyes angled down to peer at Connor, instead. 

“Why are you out here with one of our children? Where are you taking him?” Markus asked, gaze slipping back to meet Hank’s. 

“Somewhere safe was the intent,” Hank said, “away from those bastards trying to round you lot up.”

“You’re protecting him?” 

“Obviously.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my son. Because I told him I’d keep him safe, and that’s what I intend to do,” Hank answered. He’d half expected his answer to annoy the android. But instead, Markus looked thoughtful. Touched, even. 

“I see. I’d like to speak with my people for a minute. You’ll come to no harm from us, though. Unless anyone new sees us here, please hold tight. I’d like to speak with you some more, once I’ve had a chance to discuss with them,” Markus told him.

Hank felt compelled to do as the android had asked. It made a lot of sense, now, how Markus had come to lead this rebellion. He was charismatic, and almost automatically likeable. He said his people wouldn’t harm Hank or Connor, and despite his pessimism regarding other people in general, Hank was inclined to believe him. 

“Alright,” Hank answered, “but if it looks like you’re going to pull any funny business, we’re out of here.”

The android almost smiled at that. “Of course. Just a few moments, please,” he said, tilting his head to them slightly before he turned and walked back over to the other three androids. 

They chatted for a little while. Hank couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it turned out that deviants had quite a lot of body language. It was dark, but Hank could see that a smaller one - possibly the woman from before - was not pleased with whatever Markus had to say. She gestured wildly, her body language all anger and aggression. The other two androids didn’t seem nearly as animated or concerned. Eventually, their calm must have rubbed off on her, because the female android waved a dismissive hand and crossed her arms. Clearly still displeased, but conceding the point. Almost like that had been a signal, Markus turned and came back over to Hank and Connor. 

“It’s not safe for you out here,” Markus said, “even at the bus station. Security is air-tight, right now, and they’re scanning every body that moves through there. They may loosen the reins once they believe they’ve rounded up a majority of the androids, but for now, you won’t get far if you go that way. Here’s what I propose - there’s an old abandoned church a little ways out of town - we can show you where. It’s where the surviving androids from Jericho are staying, including us. You’ll be safer there, at least for the time being.”

Hank didn’t love the idea. He’d been set on fleeing the city and country entirely. So long as they were in Detroit, they were in danger. Connor was in danger. 

But if the bus station was in as dire straits as Markus said - and Hank had no reason to assume otherwise - then it’d be even more dangerous. For the moment, they were trapped. So why not be trapped along with the android rebellion? If nothing else, Hank knew, they’d likely keep Connor safe. 

Connor.

The kid had a good head, and even with the shock of the last few hours, it was only right that he have a say in this. Hank turned, carefully disentangling Connor’s hands from his shirt, and crouched in front of the android.

“What do you think, Connor?” Hank asked him.

Connor looked back at him, then looked up at Markus. He looked thoughtful, it was clear he was analyzing Markus, but he also pressed his hands together and rubbed them. Nervous, then. 

“I’m...not sure, Hank,” he said after a moment.

At that, Markus crouched down as well, turning his attention to Connor.

“Hey, Connor, right?” Markus said, “I get it...this deviant thing, it’s pretty scary. And I know North, Josh, and Simon,” he paused to gesture at the three androids still keeping their distance, “probably scared you pretty badly, too. But I promise you, none of us will harm you. And our place will truly be safest for you, for now. You know, there are even some other children around. And you have my promise that I will do what I can to make sure you and your - “ Markus paused, glancing quickly at Hank, “and your dad get away safely, as soon as it  _ is  _ safe. So, what do you say?”

Connor looked between Markus and Hank, trading a few glances between them, before he tucked Lieutenant a bit closer to his body and nodded. 

“Okay. Okay, let’s go with them, Hank.” 

 

* * *

 

The church was falling apart. Not just abandoned, but severely dilapidated too. Although he knew they wouldn’t be there that long, hopefully, Connor couldn’t help but worry about Hank’s health. There was likely plenty of mold and mildew - although probably less, with the cold temperatures. Plus, what if the building itself actually fell in? The androids would probably be alright, but Hank could be severely injured. 

Connor tightened his hold on Hank’s hand. He saw Hank look down at him, and gave the man his best attempt at a reassuring look. Hank was doing everything for him. If anything happened to Hank, it would be all Connor’s fault.

Then, Connor decided, he would just make sure that nothing happened to Hank. 

“Feel free to make yourselves at home,” Markus said as he turned to look at them, “be careful, as plenty of the people here may be cautious towards you, Hank. Possibly even aggressive, although feel free to come and find me if you have any trouble.” He paused and glanced around, before pointing. “Those folks over there are sort of like you. They came here because they were looking for help escaping the country. I asked them to stay, as well. You might find some kinship with them. For now, I have to go and talk with some people, we have some decisions to make. Again, feel free to come to me with any concerns.”

Connor felt uncertain about Markus. The older android was friendly and warm, and he certainly knew how to speak. But at the same time, he was the one who’d begun this revolution. His actions had directly caused the humans to begin hunting them. Connor knew it was very unfair, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of anger towards the other android for that. 

“Thanks, Markus. This is pretty damn helpful,” Hank said. Markus gave them a nod before walking off, the other three - North, Josh, and Simon, Connor remembered - following him. 

“Looks like there’s a kid with those androids Markus pointed out,” Hank said, looking down at Connor, “you want to go introduce ourselves? Or are you feeling antisocial?” 

“I don’t know, Hank,” Connor said. The man’s question brought their circumstances crashing back down on the small android. The rate of his thirium pump picked up again, and there it was, that building pressure that started to steal his breath away. He’d begun to recognize it as panic. It was, out of those he’d felt so far, his least favorite emotion. 

Then Hank crouched in front of him again, and as the man tended to do, he took Connor’s shoulders in his hands. “I know,” Hank said, “this place isn’t great. Nothing about this situation is great. And if you want to just go curl up together in a corner until Markus can help us get out of here, then that’s what we’ll do. But you know, this might be the chance to make some friends. It’s worth thinking about, anyway.” 

Connor stared back at Hank for a few seconds, then he let his gaze wander over to the androids that Markus had pointed out. One was a model Connor didn’t immediately recognize, but it was very tall and very muscular. The other adult android was considerably smaller and feminine, an AX400 household model, Connor noted. Finally, they had sitting between them a small, feminine android child. One of the models Connor had been intended as an improvement over. YK500. 

He rubbed his hands together, the familiar ritual helping him calm a little. It might be interesting, he told himself, to meet another android child. Especially another deviant android child, which he could only assume was true of the little girl. 

“You’re right,” Connor told Hank, “I think we should go and introduce ourselves.”

“Thatta boy,” Hank said with a wink. Then he stood, and together they approached the trio of androids. 

Despite the guardian appearance of the larger male android, it was the AX400 who stood when they approached. Connor noted surprise in her face, as well as anxiety. 

“Can we help you?” She asked them, her gaze flickering between them before finally staying on Hank. 

“Sorry if we’re a bother,” Hank told her, “my name is Hank Anderson. And this is Connor. Markus told us you showed up trying to flee the country, which is what we were trying to do, too. And I don’t think Connor has ever met any other child androids, except maybe in the store, but I’m gonna guess they weren’t exactly good company. Anyway. We thought we’d come introduce ourselves, at least.” 

The AX400 frowned, still looking uncertain, but Connor was pretty sure she wasn’t going to attack Hank or anything. She didn’t respond at first, but then finally gestured at the other two androids. 

“My name is Kara,” she told them, “this is Luther, and the little girl is named Alice. We came to Jericho to see if Markus could help us get passports, to get across the border.”

“Markus found us out on the street. We were trying to get a bus to get up to the Blue Water Bridge, also trying to get across the border,” Hank told her in turn. Connor noted that this seemed to calm the AX400 - Kara, he reminded himself - considerably more. With that, he trusted that the adults would get along fine. So he turned his attention to Alice, instead. 

The little android girl was already looking at Connor with a close scrutiny that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. She didn’t blink much, he realized, and suddenly he understood why blinking had been added to androids in the first place. The lack of it was unsettling, even to him.

“Hello, Alice,” he said, moving slightly closer to the girl, “my name is Connor. It’s good to meet you.” 

Whatever thoughtful state she’d been in seemed broken by his greeting. She blinked - finally - and glanced away from him, looking unsure.

“Hi, Connor,” she said, even as she moved to be closer to Kara. Connor frowned, but didn’t press. If she was uncomfortable talking to him, he certainly didn’t want to make her more so. To his surprise, however, she spoke again after a few seconds. 

“You’re with a human?” She asked him, “is he...a nice human? Has he ever hit you?”

“Hank’s a very nice human,” Connor reassured her, seeing how fearful she seemed when she glanced at Hank, “he’s taken care of me very well. And no, he’s never once risen a hand to me.” That made Alice relax considerably, and Connor found himself wondering about her past. But he didn’t ask, having recognized that doing so might negatively affect her feelings towards him. 

“Who’s that?” She asked. Connor’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out who she was asking about. Then he noted that her gaze was towards his arm, and he looked down at the stuffed turtle still safely tucked there. He slipped Lieutenant into his hands and held him forward slightly.

“This is Lieutenant. He’s my stuffed turtle...Hank has called him my ‘comfort toy,’ before. I suppose that’s appropriate. He’s very soft...would you like to feel?” Connor told her. He was almost immediately insulted when she shook her head no. Who would pass up a chance to pet something soft? Especially Lieutenant, who was possibly the softest thing in the entire world, except maybe Sumo? 

Alice reached behind her then and pulled out a toy of her own, and Connor felt his annoyance quickly fade. She had her own toy, it only made sense that she’d prefer it over some strangers’. 

It was an almost anthropomorphic fox, with long gangly limbs. It was deep brown, and Connor had to admit it looked very inviting, although he still privately thought Lieutenant was far better. 

“This is Oliver. I had a toy just like it in my old home, but Kara gave me this one the night we ran away. He’s not as soft as Lieutenant, but he’s very squishy and comfortable to hug,” Alice told him. Connor examined the other toy, an idea coming to him. He held Lieutenant out, and after a moment, Alice did the same with Oliver. With an unspoken agreement that this would be a very quick trade, they passed each other the stuffed animals.

Alice was right, Connor found, Oliver  _ was  _ very comfortable to hug. Still, he was relieved when they traded back, and his arms were once again full of Lieutenant’s softness. 

 

* * *

 

Hank and Kara, despite being in similar situations, turned out not to have a lot in common. That wasn’t especially surprising to the man. After all, Kara was an android on the run with an android child, her experiences would have been vastly different than his own. Still, she seemed to be more comfortable with his presence than she had been at first, so that was something. 

Their very short conversation faded away, and for a moment it was awkwardness between them. Then Hank turned his attention to the two children, and the strange atmosphere was forgotten as he watched them.

There was a similar awkwardness between the two kids, he noted. At least at first. Again, Hank realized it shouldn’t be a surprise. He’d known practically since the day he brought Connor home that Connor wasn’t like the stereotypical android child. Add in to that actual personality differences between two  _ deviant  _ android children, and he really should have expected that conversation with another child wouldn’t come easily to Connor. Still, Connor was clearly giving it his best try. And Alice was responding, at least somewhat. 

Then, something actually mind blowing. He watched as the two children traded stuffed animals. Of course, it was only for a few seconds tops, just long enough for each child to hug the other animal. Then they quickly exchanged them back, and Hank could see the relief on Connor’s face when Lieutenant was back in his arms. Still, that they’d traded them at all was a big step for Connor, Hank realized.

He smiled. 

Then, a sudden hush fell over the church as a whole. He could see it unnerve both children, and Connor was soon back at his side, gripping Hank’s hand in a vice grip. Alice, Hank saw, had moved similarly close to Kara. There was no reason for alarm, Hank quickly realized, the androids in the church had simply fallen quiet to listen to Markus, who had taken up a spot in front of everyone on a slightly raised podium. 

“Humans have decided...to exterminate us,” Markus began, “our people are packed in camps right now, being destroyed. Time has come to make a choice, one that very well may determine the future of our people.”

Hank glanced around the church, glad to see that he hadn’t apparently drawn any attention. As Markus had said, Hank had no doubt that many of the androids in the building would react with fear and hatred if they noticed the human in their midst. He couldn’t help but feel nervous on that point, but all the same, seeing all the androids together stirred something in him. He had already been sympathetic to their cause. Now, seeing so many hurt and terrified  _ people  _ in one spot, he was downright rooting for them. 

“I know...I know you’re all angry. And I know you want to fight back. But I assure you, violence is not the answer here. We are going to tell them, peacefully, that we want justice. If there’s any humanity in them, they will listen. And if not, others will take our place and continue this fight. Are you ready to follow me?”    
  
A chorus of voices rose up all around them, shouts of ‘yes’ and ‘Markus!’ Markus’s pull as a leader was clear, Hank saw, these androids would follow Markus, even if he asked for their deaths. Hank supposed he practically was. Give them freedom or give them death, indeed. Hell, if it wasn’t for Connor, Hank himself might have joined them, moved to their cause by Markus’s words. But he did have Connor, and the boy came first. 

When the androids marched in their demonstration, Hank was sure that would be the distraction he and Connor needed to get out of the town. As the androids around him cheered, Hank began to plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I forgot to mention this before. Markus's speech at the tower, as well as the one included in this chapter, are word-for-word from the actual game.


	10. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy, this was a hard chapter to write! At first, I tried to use a chronology of events from DBH to time these scenes, but pretty quickly realized that was next to impossible. Also, I just really wanted to make sure this chapter was good. Because, this is it!
> 
> That's right folks. There will be an epilogue chapter, but in terms of plot-based chapters, this is the last one! Thank you guys again so, so much for all of the love and support. I really hope you like this chapter. 
> 
> PS: I also intend to write at least one one-shot that comes from this AU.

Calm before the storm had never been such an accurate description, Hank thought. As the night wore on and dawn approached, the androids all around him were in a constant state of buzz. They talked, they planned, they sulked, they grieved, they did all sorts of things and exhibited all sorts of emotions and if Hank had had any doubt regarding this deviancy thing, this one night would have washed them all away. 

As time passed, he became suddenly aware of just how  _ tired  _ he was. The nap from before was likely the reason he hadn’t already stopped functioning entirely, but all of the excitement that had happened since had taken a toll on his very human body. 

He and Connor had stayed near Kara, Luther, and Alice, mostly because despite everything, Connor did seem to genuinely enjoy being around the other android child.  At the moment they were sitting together, both cross-legged, knees almost touching (but not quite, he noticed). They were chattering softly, their conversation too quiet and too private for the adults to hear. 

“Connor,” Hank said, kneeling down by the boy and waiting for his eyes to come to him, “I need to rest for awhile. I think I’m gonna go find a quiet corner. Do you want to stay here with Alice? I’m sure Kara and Luther wouldn’t mind.” He glanced quickly at the adult androids, Kara’s friendly smile answering his unspoken question. It didn’t matter, though, because Hank had hardly stopped talking when Connor got quickly to his feet.

“I want to stay with you,” Connor told him. Part of Hank wanted to disagree, feeling that Alice was good for Connor, and the boy would be better distracted if he were with a friend, rather than sitting by a sleeping old man. But another part of Hank wanted Connor to stay near him just as desperately, so Hank nodded and stood. 

After a little while of searching, he and Connor found an empty pew in a darkened corner. A couple of androids sat against the wall nearby, but they seemed to be lost in their own worlds, and didn’t appear to have any interest in talking to or bothering Hank or Connor. 

“Are you tired?” Hank asked as he settled down onto the pew, examining Connor with a critical eye. The boy shook his head. 

“No, I’m fine, Hank. Are you cold? You should take my coat while you rest. I can turn my cold sensors off,” Connor replied.

“Keep it,” Hank told him seriously, “I’ll be just fine with what I have. I am going to try to sleep, though. Wake me if you need me, no matter what for. And try not to wander away, alright? I wouldn’t want to lose you in this crowd.”

Connor reached out and touched Hank’s arm. He’d gotten touchy since he’d deviated, Hank thought, not that he minded it a bit. He wondered, though, if it was because of the deviancy, or if it was because Connor felt more comfortable around him. 

“I’ll be here, I promise. Rest, Hank.”

It wasn’t right, Hank thought, that Connor sounded so concerned for  _ him. _ It was supposed to be the other way around. He nodded and settled down onto the pew, leaving room at the end for Connor to sit, if he wanted to. Apparently he did, as he was soon settled there. 

Well, Hank thought, maybe it was okay for them to be concerned about  _ each other. _

 

* * *

 

The bulk of the androids, led by Markus and his team, left as dawn began to rise. Hank slept through most of that, and it wasn’t until he woke later that he realized that except for Connor, himself, and Kara’s family, there weren’t many androids left behind. Those that were, were likely too injured to help in the march. 

With a quick, whispered conversation, Hank, Luther, and Kara decide to travel together. It’s a touchy balance between safety in numbers and a group that attracts attention, but still they decided it’s for the best. There are two reasons for that decision; Connor and Alice. 

They don’t say the words, but all three of them know. If something happens to Hank, Kara and Luther will do what they can to get Connor to freedom. If something happens to one of them, Hank will do the same for Alice. 

Eventually, they started getting ready to leave the church. But before they did, Hank called Connor over to him, a little ways away from the others. 

“Listen, Connor,” Hank said, tugging the boy a bit closer, holding him by the shoulders as he was wont to do. Connor looked at him, brow furrowing as he took in Hank’s expression. “Look...this is going to be dangerous. And it’s going to be tough. And if you were any other kid I’d be lying to you and saying that we’re definitely going to survive this. But you’re smart, sharp as a whip. So you deserve to know that our chances are...well. They could be better.” Hank glanced over at the other three androids. 

“Connor. If we’re caught, you need to know that I am going to fight tooth and nail to make sure you, at least, get away. They’ll likely go easier on me, since I’m a human-” he paused. Was it too much? Maybe, but Connor deserved the truth. “But they may not. It doesn’t matter, because they  _ will  _ kill you, if they catch you. So I’ll do everything I can to make sure they don’t. So if that happens, Connor-” 

“No, Hank, you can’t - I won’t let them -” 

Hank shook the boy firmly, but gently. “Connor.” The command in his voice made the boy snap his mouth shut. “If that happens, the instant you get the chance, you run. You fucking run as hard and fast as that little android body can manage. You don’t look back. You don’t come back for me. You don’t come back for Kara, or Luther, or Alice. You run, and you hide, and you stay hidden until you’re completely alone. Do you understand?” 

Connor stammered at him, and Hank saw his eyes begin filling with tears. It tore at his heart, but he didn’t let up. He had to know Connor would obey him on this. “Connor,” he said again, warningly. Finally, Connor nodded.

“O-Okay. Okay. I’ll run, and I’ll hide, and I’ll keep hiding until they’re gone.” 

Hank let himself soften, at that, giving the boy his best attempt at a small smile. “Good boy. If you get away, you try and get to Canada, if you can. If you can’t, you just keep hiding. And you keep hiding until things calm down. If I survive, I may be jailed for a time. Hopefully, Markus wins this. They’ll probably release me pretty quick, if he does. The instant I can, Connor, I will come and find you. Okay? And if it doesn’t work out that way - if they kill me - then you try to find Kara and Luther and Alice. Or, try to get to Markus. You’re so fucking smart, I know you’ll figure out the exact right way to go.” 

Connor wiped at his eyes. “Hank, I don’t want you to die.  _ I  _ don’t want to die.”

“Yeah, me either kid,” Hank said, chuckling despite the dark conversation, “and we’ll do everything we can to make sure that doesn’t happen. But if it does, I need to know you’ll be okay. If - “ he paused, something catching in his throat. He tugged Connor even closer, into a hug this time, feeling the boy’s hair tickle against his chin. “If they  _ do  _ catch you, if they don’t - don’t kill you right away, then you need to do what they say. To a point. Keep your head down, do as they say, don’t fight back, don’t talk back...unless they try to make you do something that’ll get you killed. Then you fight like hell. Alright?”

Connor didn’t answer for a long moment. Hank didn’t press him. He knew what he was asking of the boy was incredible, even for a highly-tuned computer-brained machine-body child. Hell, it was all a lot to ask of himself! 

“Okay, Hank. I’ll do it, everything you said. I’ll survive this.” 

Hank sighed heavily, tightening his hold on the child.

“Good kid.”

 

* * *

 

Things went surprisingly smoothly, at first. The area around the church was quiet and deserted, which Hank was just fine with, because it meant no police.

Unfortunately, as they headed towards the nearest bus station, things started to change. Before long, the group of five were spending most of their time dodging around cars, signs, and other similar blockades, always trying to stay out of the sight of the many officials in the area. It wasn’t easy, and they often had to move only one or two people at a time. Luther, especially, had a hard time of it, being that he was roughly the size of a truck. 

As they moved, Hank kept Connor tucked as close to his side as he could. At times, he would practically pick up the boy in order to make sure they moved fast enough to get to the next hiding spot. 

Once, they saw a small collection of androids shot execution-style. Another time, they saw a trio of androids shoved into the back of a collection truck. Androids were shot - both fatally and not. Hank wished time and time again that he could hide the sights from Connor, but there wasn’t time. They had to focus all of their energy on moving. 

They were getting close to the bus station when they hit a checkpoint. Luther and Kara debated the use of another way, but time had been ticking down, and none of them were sure how much longer before the last bus left. With the curfew and android march, there was every possibility that the last bus would be much sooner than any of them realized. 

“Don’t worry so much,” Hank told them, stepping into their conversation. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his badge, showing it to them. “I should be able to get us through this no problem. Just let me do the talking, alright?” 

That was, he reflected later, the easiest part of the night. It had occurred to him that his name could be known. After all, those from his precinct were likely wondering where the hell he was. They would have known about Connor. It would have been easy for them to tell - and probably, tempting as hell for a certain asshole detective. 

But if any of that was true, word about him hadn’t gotten to the soldiers stationed at the checkpoint. They didn’t love it, but when Hank flashed his badge and lifted an eyebrow, they sighed and waved the group on. Why would a cop, even just a local boy, be traveling with any androids, after all?

After that, miraculously, all five of them made it. The bus station was packed with people - mostly humans, Hank assumed, although he wouldn’t have been surprised if there were a couple of androids in the mess. He and the others moved into the crowd and did their best to blend in. It wasn’t difficult, no one really paid attention to what was going on around them. 

It became a little more difficult, though, when they saw the officers moving through the crowd. They were scanning people - temperature scans, Hank assumed - looking for androids. 

Then, an announcement.

Tickets, of course. How had Hank been stupid enough to forget that they’d need tickets? Why hadn’t he thought ahead - no way would there be any tickets available for purchase at the station. There wouldn’t be any left.

He hustled the others through the crowd, trying to find some source of tickets - someone selling them for exuberant prices, as an example - as well as avoiding the officers with their scanners. 

Connor was the one who spotted the tickets as they fluttered out of a woman’s bag. He scooped them up and brought them over to the group, looking at them with wide eyes as he held them out.

Three tickets. Two adults, one child. 

“Should we...give them back?” Connor asked.

“We need to!” Alice responded before any of the adults could, “what if those people get hurt or die or something because we took their tickets? It’s not right to steal.” 

“But sometimes, there isn’t much choice,” Luther cut in, “you’ve got a heart of gold, Alice, but those humans will be fine if they have to stay here. We won’t be so lucky.” 

“There’s only three tickets,” Kara said, her voice soft, worried, “that’s not enough. If it’s a sign, it’s a bad one. Maybe Alice is right.” 

Hank looked at the three androids, and then he looked at Connor. He wasn’t terribly surprised to see the boy already staring at him. He moved over to Hank’s side and pressed the tickets into the man’s hand, nodding. Hank nodded back and took a breath before holding the tickets out to Kara.

“Luther’s right. There won’t be a better chance than this. Take the tickets, Kara. Take them, and you three get the hell out of here,” Hank said.

Kara’s eyes widened as she looked at the tickets, then at him. “Hank? We couldn’t do that - what about you and Connor? What will you do?” 

“Hey, we’ll manage. We’re both pretty smart, you know,” Hank said, putting his other arm around Connor’s shoulders, “we’ll find another way. Don’t worry about us, alright? C’mon. Take the tickets and go, before the bus leaves.” 

Kara still didn’t move to take the tickets, and Hank felt his own chest catch when her eyes filled with tears. Before she could say anything else, though, Luther had leaned over, taking the tickets from Hank’s outstretched hand. Before Hank could pull it back, Luther put a piece of paper in it. 

“Thank you, Hank. That paper has the address and phone number on it for a man in Canada. He’s the brother of a good friend of ours, and he’s already agreed to help. You guys figure out a way to get over the border, and you come find us, alright? That’s where we’ll be,” Luther said.

Hank looked at the giant of a man, then nodded, smiling despite it all. “Thanks, Luther. You take care of these girls, alright? We’ll see you on the flip side.” 

“See you then, Hank, Connor,” Luther said, “c’mon girls. We’ve gotta get on that bus.”

“We can’t leave them!” Alice exclaimed, “it’s not right!”

Hank looked at the girl, and went to move towards her, but Connor got there first.

“Sometimes you’ve gotta do what’s best for you and your family, over what’s right,” Connor told her, “I’ve got Hank, and Hank has me. We’re going to be alright. So go with them, alright? We’ll meet again, Alice. You’ll see. After all, otherwise Lieutenant would miss his new friend Oliver.” 

Alice’s lip quivered, and then she shot forward, hugging Connor tightly. “Be careful, Connor!”

“We will be,” Connor said, patting her back with only a little bit of awkwardness, “you too.” 

“C’mon, Alice,” Luther said, once the kids had hugged for a few seconds. He leaned down, and carefully took her hand. She gave both Connor and Hank one last, sad look, mirrored by the look Kara also gave them. And then the three androids walked away towards the bus. 

It was just Hank and Connor, then. 

“Alright, Connor,” Hank said, “let’s see what we can find.” He moved to take Connor’s hand, but then thought better of it. Instead, he leaned down and picked Connor up, balancing the gangly boy as best he could on a hip. Connor, android or no, was a little too old and big for such a move, but he didn’t complain. 

It made them both feel better.

 

* * *

 

_ Objective: Get Across the Border _

Connor shook his head slightly and banished the message from his sight. At this point, it was just annoying. He knew what their mission was, and there wasn’t much he could do to help make it a reality. 

They didn’t find tickets for the bus. Anyone who had them at the terminal obviously intended to use them, and no one else was careless enough to drop theirs. Eventually, the bus left, and as it drove away, Connor felt the thirium in his veins pumping faster.

From where he was held against Hank’s side, Connor could feel the man’s heart speed up, too. Now they had no way across the border, and were surrounded by humans. Even though the bus had left, Connor saw that the guards did not stop scanning the crowd. They had to leave. 

“We’re going,” Hank said, before Connor had even gotten the words out. Hank turned and started walking away. The lights of the bus terminal had begun to fade, when suddenly a voice shouted after them.

“Hold it right there!”

Connor felt a dizzying sensation of familiarity run through him, something he thought was called  _ deja vu _ . Only this time, he knew, the voice wasn’t Simon or North or Josh. It would be a human guard, wondering where they were going at curfew. Wanting to scan them, to make sure neither of them were androids. 

They were caught. 

Hank knew it too.

The man started sprinting away, holding Connor even more closely. Multiple people shouted at them from behind, and soon enough Connor heard feet pounding the pavement as they were pursued. 

Connor half expected gunshots, but none came. He realized why, soon after. The officers had no definitive proof that they were chasing androids. With everything else going on, the last thing they probably wanted to do was shoot a human. Especially a human child. 

Hank could run pretty quick when he wanted to, Connor found himself thinking. It was impressive, given that the man - detective or no - was not in the best of shape physically. It must have been the adrenaline.

But it wasn’t enough. Suddenly, Hank tripped and fell. Connor didn’t tumble to the ground, like he’d expected. Instead, hands were grabbing at him, pulling him away. Someone had Hank too, he saw, they must have tripped him to stop him. 

Armored guards, dressed all in black. 

The hands holding him tightened their grip, and there was something bright in his eyes, a bright red light that distorted his visual field. 

“Kid’s an android!” Someone shouted. The light, Connor realized, must have been a scanner. 

_ Warning: Stress Level 95% _

They were going to kill him. They would shoot him, or crush his head, or any number of things that would end with him dead. Connor was going to die. Connor didn’t  _ want  _ to die!

He began to thrash in their grip, screaming for Hank. Screaming for his  _ dad.  _

 

* * *

 

“Hank! Please, Hank! No - stop - Dad!” Connor’s screams coursed through Hank’s veins like fire. And at that last word, Hank  _ snapped. _

It had been a long time since Hank was at the academy, but the training all flowed back like rain. Hank threw his elbow back and up, felt the satisfying crunch of bone as the man holding him let go with a cry. He wasted no time and threw himself forward, hearing more cries of alarm as he shoved his entire body weight into another armored soldier, throwing them to the ground. 

He punched, shoved, and kicked, and if only because they weren't expecting the fight, Hank made it through. As a special treat, he threw two fingers into the eyes of the man holding Connor, before punching up into his jaw. The man let go, and Hank took his place, crouching and pulling Connor against him, tucking him as deep into his arms as possible, trying to block every surface of the boy’s small body. 

“I'm sorry Connor, I'm so sorry. I love you, son. I love you so goddamn much.” Time slowed, as Hank said as much as he was able. It was inevitable, now, that they would die here. The bullets would come any second. He considered pushing Connor away and ordering the boy to run, but he knew that he’d be gunned down before he got so far as a step. He wished, instead, that he could be a bulletproof shield for Connor. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t save Connor. He couldn’t save his son. 

It was over. 

“Wait, Stop!” One of the officers suddenly called out. It seemed to Hank that every breath around him, including Connor’s and his own, stopped. Silence filled the air. 

“We’ve got new orders. They’re telling us to stand down, telling the men at the camps to stop all disassembly immediately. Orders from the president herself,” the man continued. The men around Hank and Connor stood there awkwardly, and for a long, long moment, nobody moved. 

Then, suddenly, they were lowering their weapons. They were backing away. They were  _ leaving. _ Part of Hank wanted to scream at them for their cowardice.  _ ‘Come back here and apologize to us, you bastards! Come back and make this right!’ _

But he didn’t say it. Because who cared, if they were leaving, if they weren’t going to shoot them? Who cared, because in that moment all Hank could think was that they were  _ alive.  _ Connor was alive. 

Markus did it. 

The humans were listening. 

Rather than letting go, Hank tightened his hold on Connor, lowered his head until it was buried in the boy’s hair, and he sobbed.

Hank could feel wetness on his shirt, telling him that Connor was sobbing, too. 


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the world does its best to settle around them, Hank and Connor try to find their own ideal of 'normal.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I did not forget about or abandon this story! On that note, I'm so sorry for the huge delay in getting this epilogue out. I had started working on it shortly after posting the last chapter. But, then I went away on vacation and ended up not doing any writing while away. 
> 
> If you missed the note on the last chapter, please know that the previous chapter was the "last" for the story. This chapter was meant to be the epilogue since I finished the last chapter. So in case you were wondering, no, I'm not rushing to finish up the story. It had ended where I thought it was appropriate.
> 
> You may also notice that this story is now designated as part of a new series - "Home." I can't make any promises, because that zest for writing has kind of fizzled, but I would like to leave the possibility open for writing a few one-shots based on this AU. So keep an eye out!
> 
> I'll have a little bit more of a note at the end, but for now, please enjoy!

The schoolyard was alive with kids running and yelling and chasing each other. Meanwhile, some sat on the steps with more patience, watching and waiting for their parental figures to show. Yet others sat in small groups, talking and chattering away. The most amazing thing, to Hank, was that no matter what they were doing, all groups of children were a mix of android and human.

The humans were easier to pick out. Although androids were so very human like, most child androids were made to look about the same age. Not to mention, of course, many had the same general facial shape, even if their hair and clothes were different, even if they were missing their LEDs. The human children, on the other hand, were a variety of different ages, some were tall for their age, some short, and the list went on. Easy to differentiate or not, it obviously didn’t matter to the kids.

Hank’s car rumbled softly as he waited in line, half-parked behind other cars of parents waiting for their kids. A few minutes passed before he spotted a little brown-haired android running towards the car. Connor all but threw the door open and clambered inside, one hand firmly on - 

Another fucking potted plant. 

Better than another live animal, Hank supposed.

“Look what Mr. Ralph gave me!” Connor said excitedly, settling into the seat and buckling himself up, “he said it’s a succulent,  _ Rebutia muscula _ . Don’t worry, Hank, I’ll take good care of it! And it won’t need too much taking care of, anyway, because they’re very hardy little plants!” 

“You know kid, one of these days I’m gonna have to say no,” Hank said, raising an eyebrow, “or else our house is going to end up being more plant than not.” Connor looked at him with clear concern, and Hank realized that he was worried that this was Hank’s way of saying ‘no’ this time. Realizing that wasn’t the case, Connor grinned.

“So next time, be sure to bring home a new animal. Understood!”

“Little shit.”

They both knew it was nothing but fondness in Hank’s voice.

 

* * *

 

They never did make it to Canada. After they’d nearly been killed in the middle of the street, both he and Connor had been shaken to the core. When he’d finally managed to calm down enough to loosen his grip on Connor, Hank knew he needed to decide on a plan. Canada was out, because they’d missed the last bus. While Hank had thought of the possibility of trying to cross the river, he knew it’d be incredibly dangerous. And if, even if it were only for the moment, they no longer had to fear being hunted down, then it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

It had been a bit of a process, still, because the both of them had been so very on edge. It’d been difficult for Hank to pull himself together enough to try and talk Connor down. And at first, he hadn’t been able to. Connor had stared straight ahead, a slight twitch in one of his shoulders telling Hank that something was very wrong. Hank had crouched down in front of the little android, hands gripping the boy’s upper arms as he tried to shake him back to reality. 

_ Deviants tend to self-destruct when subjected to high levels of stress, especially for prolonged periods.  _

The thought had chilled Hank deep to the core, terrifying him so much that soon he found himself all but screaming at Connor, practically begging the child to come back to him.

_ “Come on, Connor! You have to calm down - we made it, we’re okay! I can’t lose you now, not when we’re so close. Please, Connor!”  _

Hank hadn’t stopped talking until, finally, blessedly, Connor had blinked, his eyes focusing in on Hank. And when tears began to build, Hank knew that Connor was coming down. The biggest danger had passed.

It’d all led to another prolonged, desperate hug. 

In the end, they’d gone back home. And they’d made it - not once accosted. 

Sumo had been ridiculously happy to see them.

 

* * *

 

Connor had received his first plant about a month after the successful android rebellion. Connor and Hank had been trying their best to settle in to the new ‘norm.’ It had been trying, because while androids were no longer being actively hunted, there was still so much up in the air. Would rights be granted at all? If so, what kind of rights? Not to mention, of course, a few stray humans who it seemed had stayed behind for the purpose of antagonizing the androids. It had all been very stressful. So Hank had done what he wished he could have done for Connor from the start - his best to distract the boy. 

The first step in trying to destress Connor, Hank had found, had been to do his best to really get to know the boy. He’d gotten to know some about him, over the course of their relationship, but not much since Connor had gone fully deviant. Hank aimed to change that.

One of the first things he’d realized was that Connor had an obsession with life. 

It explained, Hank had thought, why Connor had so immediately bonded with Sumo. It might even explain why the stuffed turtle had been so important. But it wasn’t limited to dogs and stuffed animals. 

Whenever they would take Sumo for a walk, or go outside for any reason, Connor would often get lost looking at everything around them. Connor would lean down by every new plant they passed, taking the time to analyze everything about it. If they passed under trees with low-hanging branches, Connor would reach up and touch his hands to the branches and leaves. 

Hank even caught the boy stuffing a leaf in his mouth, once. “Sampling it to determine it’s species,” had been the excuse. 

Another time, they’d been walking along the lake, when Connor had just about pitched over the side of the railing. Hank had barely managed to catch the boy. 

“What the hell were you thinking? That water is still partially frozen!” 

“Sorry, Hank. I thought I saw a fish. I wanted to get closer.”

It’d been around that time when Hank had gotten Connor his first plant. Granted, none of the stores were actually open yet, so it’d been a hastily re-planted wild thing. But it hadn’t mattered to Connor, he’d taken the little plant with wide, glimmering eyes. The hug he’d given Hank that day had been well worth it. 

Not long after, Connor had asked Hank to show him how to transplant a plant into a pot. After a strict discussion on how you couldn’t just pick up any plant you saw out in the wild, especially if it was in someone’s yard, Hank had obliged. 

It’d only gotten worse after the school.

It’d been six months since the android rebellion. A long, fruitful six months. In that time, androids received most of the recognition they’d asked for. They were classified as an intelligent, independent species equal to humans. They received their justice, their civil rights, their right to property. 

Amazingly, Cyberlife - after falling apart - had been given to the androids. They were now solely responsible for the creation of new android life, as well as providing parts and supplies that androids would need.

That last bit had been a pretty recent development. It was certainly the one the humans had pushed the most against. But in the end, once again, the androids had come out on top.

That being said, things hadn’t been smooth by any means. Protests, corrupt authorities, and similar problems continued to plague android-kind - still did, even in present day. There were new reports most days about android trafficking rings being found. But things had settled into a tentative sort of peace. Hank wasn’t about to let Connor wander off alone, but he felt fine taking the kid out and about. And things only got better by the day. 

The school had been Kara’s idea. She and her family had returned maybe four and a half months after the rebellion. Once they were back, Hank had gotten into contact, wanting to make sure that Connor got to spend some time around another child his age. It’d been at one of their meetups that Kara had brought the idea to him. 

It was a school for both human and android children. Obviously, the human children would pass through - going up the grades until they moved onto the next level. It worked a little differently for android children, though. For them, it was more like a daycare. Somewhere they could go while their parental figures worked. They sat in classes with the human children, though, enjoying learning and activities just as much. 

All of the teachers were androids. That had, understandably, concerned the human parents. At first opening, only androids attended the school. Eventually, though, human children had trickled in, and these days it was a good mix. Many of the more basic classes were provided - the school catering mostly to middle schoolers - but some specialized classes existed as well. 

Connor, not surprisingly, adored school. He thrived on the biology and math classes, and they’d even arranged it so he could spend some time learning with an android that had once been a zookeeper.

It was he that Hank could thank for the first animal to join their house. It’d been a small turtle, complete with tank and all necessities. Seeing the bright-eyed look that Connor gave him when he brought the turtle home, Hank could hardly say no.

Of course, Connor hadn’t wanted it to seem as if he were replacing his stuffed animal. So he’d named the turtle “Colonel.” 

These days, Hank’s living room looked like a mini rainforest. A number of potted plants - only, thankfully, those that couldn’t be planted outside - lined the windows. Colonel’s tank sat in the corner, a couple of other plants surrounding it, as well. It really wasn’t Hank’s ideal living space.

Still, everyday Connor could be found tending his plants. He always did it with a soft smile, and most recently the boy had even begun humming while he worked. Any fool could see the pure happiness Connor derived from caring for them. And after everything he’d been through, Hank had no interest in interfering with that happiness in any way.

Even if it meant he had to live in a forest. 

 

* * *

 

Once they arrived home, Connor hurried to find a place for his newest plant. He arranged it carefully, stepped away from it, then moved it again, repeating the process a couple of times before he finally seemed content. 

“Alright then,” Hank said, once Connor was done fiddling, “now that that’s done, lets leash up Sumo. The others are probably already waiting at the park.” 

“Alright, Hank. I’ll get Sumo ready!” 

It’d been Hank’s idea to have these meetups (playdates, really) at the park close to his house. He’d felt as if it were about time he tried a bit harder to continue on in his life, for Connor if for no other reason. Still, the first time they’d gone, Hank had spent the entire time feeling a bit as though someone were punching his stomach over and over again. Connor, observant as always, had insisted on cutting that trip short. Hank had allowed it, but he had later insisted on keeping the park as their meetup spot. 

The flash of grief got a bit shorter every time they went. Though it never went away completely. 

As they headed into the heart of the park together for this latest meetup, Connor looked up at Hank, the boy’s expression questioning. Hank tried to smile at the boy, but the curiosity on Connor’s face told him his smile hadn’t been reassuring. He wasn’t especially surprised when Connor stopped, tugging on his hand to make him do so as well.

“Are you alright, Hank?” Connor asked him. 

The lie slipped easily to Hank’s lips, but he kept himself from speaking. Instead, he crouched down slightly, ruffling Connor’s hair.

“I will be, don’t worry about me,” Hank told him. He watched as Connor pressed his lips together, obviously deciding whether or not it was an issue worth pushing. But eventually the android boy nodded. Then they continued on.

In the heart of the park was a sprawling play structure, although it wasn’t especially busy today. Hank scanned the area until he spotted who he was looking for - Kara, Alice, Luther, and Markus. 

These playdates had originally started as a way for Hank, Kara, Alice, Luther, and Connor to get together and spend time together. It was good for Connor, in Hank’s opinion, to spend time with a friend his own age. Hank, for his part, supposed it was good for him to socialize with adults now and again too. The awkwardness that had reigned their conversation when they’d all first met had bled into their first few gatherings, but by now it had faded. Yeah, Hank supposed he would call Kara and Luther friends. Good friends, even. 

Markus, on the other hand, had more or less stumbled upon them by accident. He’d been taking a walk one day when he spotted them in the park. He’d come over, and although he’d started by talking with the adults, he’d eventually turned his attention to the children, instead. Now, he was there almost every time they met up. But he never really spent time around Hank, Kara, and Luther. Rather, he ran around the play structure with the kids. Hank would watch as Markus would chase them, or lift them onto the monkey bars, or let them climb all over him. Markus was, in Hank’s mind, like their cool, older uncle. 

After one last glance at Hank, Connor left him to the other adults and hurried over to where Markus and Alice were. They both turned to greet him, Alice with a shy hello, and Markus with open arms and cheerful laughter. 

Hank chuckled and settled onto the bench next to Luther. And for a moment, none of them spoke, satisfied instead to watch their children living. 

 

* * *

 

“Did you have fun today, Connor?” Hank asked the android later, once they were home and he had settled onto the couch. 

“I always enjoy the park,” Connor told him as he wandered the house, checking on and caring for his plants and, of course, Colonel and Sumo. “Today, Markus had Alice and I sit on a tire swing. He spun it  _ really  _ fast. A little too fast for me, I think, but Alice seemed to really like it.”

“Well,” Hank told him, “make sure you ask Markus to slow it down next time. Tell him it made you uncomfortable going that fast.”

“Uncomfortable,” Connor said, moving to sit next to Hank on the couch, “it’s ‘uncomfortable.’ Okay, I’ll remember.” Hank nodded, reaching over to grab one of their books. 

“Good, uncomfortable is an important feeling to have the name for. But for now, let’s focus on being  _ comfortable _ . ‘Goodnight Moon,’ again?” Hank asked. Although they had managed to finish Charlotte’s Web, and Connor seemed to enjoy it, the boy had a special fondness for the other, more simple children’s book. Reading a book at night had become a sort of ritual for them, and while Connor was happy to try new things, often he liked to just settle in and listen to Hank read “Goodnight Moon.”

“Yes, but, may I read it tonight, Hank?” 

Well, that was new. Connor always seemed to enjoy just listening to Hank read, he’d never asked to read it himself before. But Hank handed over the book with a nod, all the same. 

Connor took the book and spread it out on his lap, settling back a bit as he did. Hank settled in too and decided that if Connor was willing to read, then he’d just close his eyes and enjoy the moment. 

The words passed over Hank without him really paying attention, although at this point he could probably recite them by heart anyway. Instead, he found himself lost in thought. 

He thought back to the day he’d walked into the Cyberlife store, berating himself the whole way for even entertaining that stupid idea. How he’d ended up leaving the store, not empty handed as he’d expected, but with an android child in tow. It’d been a decision of a lonely and somewhat desperate man, a spur-of-the-moment choice that he’d been so sure he’d end up regretting.

Hank opened an eye to peer at Connor. The boy was concentrating on the book, taking the task of reading as seriously as every other task he undertook. The boy was hardly childlike at all, in a lot of ways. He was too serious, his words more sophisticated and often more stilted than most human children. But he also clung to a comfort toy - Lieutenant - as strongly as any other child. He had a zest and love for life in all its forms. When he was stressed or scared, he’d run to Hank to make it better. One night, he’d even come crawling into Hank’s bed. 

He was an android, there was no getting around that. But even if they bled different colors, he was still Hank’s son.

No, Hank thought, in the end, he didn’t regret a thing. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap, at least for the core story! Like I said, I may put out a one-shot or two based on this AU. But I can't promise it! We'll have to see what the future brings.
> 
> Thank you all so very, very much for your support - whether it was kudos or bookmarks or comments. I saw every single one, and all the support just made me feel so warm and fuzzy. 
> 
> I'll catch you all on the flipside.
> 
> End_Transmission


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